


Tan Fácil

by guidingkeys



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Dirty Talk, Doggy Style, F/M, Oral Sex, Orgasm Denial, Parenting Shenanigans, Vaginal Sex, y'all gotta use your big brain imaginations for this one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-26
Updated: 2020-10-22
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:47:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 22,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26669182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/guidingkeys/pseuds/guidingkeys
Summary: Eren dumped his head in his hands, his fingers forking through his hair. Kid logic was so frustratingly cute. But, fuck. When did his love life become his ten-year-old's priority?
Relationships: Eren Yeager & Gabi Braun, Krista Lenz | Historia Reiss & Zofia, Krista Lenz | Historia Reiss/Eren Yeager
Comments: 30
Kudos: 170





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Based on tumblr prompt: "We're the only two parents who agreed to attend the school trip (bonus: so, I guess we share this hotel room?)"
> 
> A/N: [Smut] bonus included. Yes, I'm not dead, and yes, I'm still working on Golden. Work hours are back to normal so updates will be slow :( And there's like a million and one prompts I'd like to do with my brain only able to focus on one thing at a time.
> 
> Title comes from CNCO's "Tan Fácil".

“Dad! Hurry up!” Gabi called out. “You’re taking for-ever in there!”

“Yeah. I _know_ , Gabs.” Eren jammed the final pair of black socks in the inside flap, squashed with his underwear and undershirts.

He shut his suitcase. It was a little on the overflowing side. Definitely too many shoes. And now that he was done, Eren remembered he forgot foot spray.

He touched his head. He should’ve packed after tidying her suitcase and duffle bag last night. Hers had taken forever, arguing about underwear and guards, training bras and bandages. All she’d wanted to pack was pajamas and her jersey. He’d been so exhausted from that, helping with her homework, and his long day at work. The second his head hit the pillow and ten o’clock, Eren was _out_.

And he was still tired. Ready for a nap on the eight hour bus ride to Kissimmee, Florida.

Eren crossed his room, into his white-tiled and salmon colored bathroom, and popped open the clean mirror above the sink. “Is your Switch charged?”

“Duh.”

He found the can. Eren twisted his body, flexed his knees, and threw it off his left hand. It bounced once, landing perfectly next to the suitcase. “And the charger?”

“ _You_ have it.”

“Right. Just making sure.” Back in his dimly lit room, Eren stuffed the can within his folded shirts and pants. He closed the flap again, working the zipper. Of course it got stuck. He sighed in frustration, his elbow digging into his travel seized body soap, and razor, and the chargers for their electronics. “What else are you bringing?”

“I don’t need anything else,” Gabi huffed. “Zofia’s bringing her iPad. We’re gonna watch moves and play.”

“Why? There’s gonna be movies on the bus.”

“Probably not good ones.”

He couldn’t say anything to that. Gradually, Gabi got over her Disney movies phase. Her Barbie dolls had been long forgotten since she was seven, the majority of them beheaded. “Why don’t you bring a book?”

“But books are boring, Dad.”

He didn’t argue that. The most he’d ever read had been assigned reading for high school. And eventually college. Reiner used to copy off him whenever they shared the same class. But that was before Eren dropped out.

The zipper wouldn’t budge no matter what tactic. It was pissing him off. Every second wasted bit into his comfortable time for a decent breakfast without feeling rushed. They weren’t exactly running late but Eren knew he was pushing it. He’d woken up pretty late. Gabi had to wake him up. And Gabi was getting impatient. She wouldn’t let him forgive or forget if she couldn’t get a seat next to Zofia.

He needed a semi-truck load of caffeine to make it through the next four days. Especially with a certain other young parent chaperoning the trip.

Just a little before six-thirty in the morning, his apartment complex was pretty quiet and still. Cars being switched on three floors down were muffled behind his bedroom window, people leaving late for work, taking their kids to school. Gabi’s foot tapped impatiently on his wooden floors, the harsh sound an echoing thunder. “What’s taking you so long? I’m so hungry! You said we’d get Burger King!”

“That’s not what I said.” Eren said through grit teeth, wondering when it became normal for his ten-year-old daughter to start bossing him around.

“Yes, you did!”

“I’m going as fast as I can.” He pushed against the suitcase more. It still wouldn’t give.

Eren locked his jaw, reopened it. The girls’ soccer tournament was being held in Kissimmee this year, in a very spacious park where the flag football tournaments took place; a lot not too far from Disney World. They’d be heading there the day before the finals. Eren tried not to think about that part just yet. Gabi might not care for Disney movies anymore, and she’d much rather go to Universal Studio’s, but who was she to complain about the prospect of going to the _happiest place on Earth?_

One over caffeinated little girl buzzing in excitement was enough. Now he had six others to think about, fret over. Eren tried to be grateful it was a small group. And that Theo Magath, Gabi’s soccer coach and music teacher, would be there. And Historia Reiss.

He hadn’t planned to take his laptop. But why not? Knowing Gabi, her Switch would run out of battery well before they arrived. She’d start bothering him for his phone. Eren unpacked a few of his clothes, the nicer shirts and an extra pair of jeans. He took out the Ziploc stuffed with their chargers and shoved that into a side pocket of his computer bag. He took out the black Jordan’s his mom bought him for Christmas. Bad idea to take those. He wouldn’t need them. They’d be on the field most of the day, and the rest would be spent in the hotel, resting up for the next game.

With his modifications, the suitcase _finally_ closed, the sound an absolute relief to his ears. It still wasn’t six-thirty. Eren slid his MacBook off his nightstand into his computer bag. He slung it over his shoulder, pulling the handle of the suitcase, yanking it off his bed. “Ready.” He announced.

Gabi was exactly where he thought she’d be—perched right by the front door, a frown on her face, arms and ankles crossed impatiently; her art-pop suitcase poised by her side, duffle slung across her body.

She threw her hands up. “Finally! Let’s go-o!” Without a second more to waste, she threw the door open, lugging her suitcase with her.

“ _Where are you going?!_ ” Eren called after her, quickly grabbing his keys he’d thrown across the kitchen counter last night. “Brush your hair!”

Gabi was already halfway down the open hall, turning at the stairs, her fingers trying to smooth her hay’s nest of thick, pecan hair. His mother’s hair color. “I’ll do it in the car!”

“No! Do it now!”

“In the car!” She argued.

Eren scowled, patting his pockets. His phone and wallet were there. “Gabi, lower your voice! There’s people still sleeping!”

“Then why’re _you_ still yelling?!” She called from the second floor.

He threw his head back and groaned at the ceiling. Eren locked the door and raced after her.

The parking lot lamps were bright and fluorescent, bathing his old Civic in an ugly glow. Eren tossed their suitcases in his trunk. Gabi hopped in the passenger seat after throwing her duffle in the backseat. When Eren plopped into the driver’s seat, she was brushing her hair with a ferociousness that was all him, seat belt clipped on.

Eren started the car, let it sit for a few minutes. The radio host drawled about Atlanta’s weekend forecast. Regular summer weather. He flipped it back to the music. “Electric Feel” by MGMT winded in. He sent a text to Pieck that the two of them were on their way to this trip. Gabi hummed along to the tune.

When they were out of the complex, Gabi said, in a slightly hesitant tone, “Dad? Can you do me a favor?”

“What?”

Gabi delicately combed through one section of her detangled hair. “Can you _please_ be nice to Zofia’s mom this weekend? _Please?_ ”

He was confused. “What’s that supposed to mean, Gabs? I’m always nice to her.” Eren told her, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye. Gabi frowned back at him. “ _She’s_ the one who’s not nice to _me._ ”

“Only because you always have an attitude with her.”

“I have an attitude with everyone.” He reached over, pulled her cheek. Her baby fat was slowly shedding. “You have my attitude.”

Gabi groaned, slapped his hand away. “Okay! But I still have friends. You only have Uncle Reiner.”

Eren rolled his eyes. “I have friends you don’t know about.”

She side-eyed him, before her eyes cut back to the road. She reminded him so much of his own father sometimes—how his dad used to point all the time that his bad attitude was the reason Eren had a total of two friends. One of them being Mikasa, his adopted sister. So that didn’t count. Just Armin. And the two of them used to follow him _everywhere_.

He ran a hand through his hair. He’d pull it up later. “Can I know why I’m getting lectured in how-to-make-friends lessons before seven in the morning by a ten-year-old?”

Gabi’s’ mouth twitched, hating whenever he brought up her ages. She yawned, rubbing her eyes with her fists. “Be-cause,” She elongated, for the drama. “I really want a sister.”

Eren’s brows furrowed out the windshield. If it weren’t before seven on a Thursday morning, he’d be elated at the prospect of no traffic on the freeway. “…Okay? And?”

She threw her hands up like he should’ve understood right away. “I want _Zofia_ to be my sister.”

Gabi’s implication lingered. The freeway began to lighten into a purple-grey with the rising sun, bouncing off the few other cars racing along with him. She’d given up on the prospect of getting him and Pieck back together after her mischievous plots slammed against a dead-end wall when Pieck got engaged to her boyfriend, Porco Galliard. She’d never known what it was like for them to be together, acting as a family unit. She’d only been a year old when they went their separate ways.

And the more Eren mulled Gabi’s statement over, the more it made sense why Gabi wanted that. She was over Historia’s house just as much as his. Or Zofia was constantly over their apartment. Zofia even slipped a few times, calling him ‘Papá'. The very first time she’d said that, over three months ago, Gabi’s eyes had lit up like Fourth of July fireworks. And… Eren hadn’t minded the slip up as much as he should’ve, had been too slow to correct her.

He shook his head, squashing those thoughts. “No, Gabi. Historia and I aren’t gonna happen.”

“Why not?” She sounded offended, her voice a little high, and she added, “You think her mom’s pretty. You’ve said it!”

“She is, but it’s more than that.” She waited, blinking those brown eyes. Eren sighed. “You can’t be with someone just because of how they look. That never lasts long.” He switched the radio to another station. “She doesn’t like me, anyway.”

“You think she likes Uncle Reiner?” She asked, sounding skeptical of the very notion.

“Maybe. I dunno. It’s not my business.”

She put the round brush back in the center console, and ted her hair back just like he usually did—half ponytail. “What if…” Gabi paused, another dramatic effect, her hands on her thighs. “…I told you she likes you? Like, like- _likes_ you? She batted her eyes, expectant. She wanted him to be shocked.

He wasn’t. He didn’t believe a word of it. Eren scoffed. “How would you even know that, Gabi?”

She shrugged pointedly, slinking down the passenger seat, tucking herself into a comfortable position. “Female intuition.”

He shook his head again, letting loose a disbelieving breath, touching his fingers to his temples. “What’re they teaching you in school, little girl?”

Gabi didn’t answer. She was already out, snoring like a train. Eren smiled softly.

He picked up some breakfast as promised, and ordered an extra coffee for Historia. Normally Gabi would be pissed about being woken up, but food, and special occasions got her sour mood to brighten. Tater tots being one of her favorite foods helped.

At Shingeki Elementary, the Greyhound waited on the curb of the main driveway, the driver scrolling on their phone inside. Eren found an empty parking space—ironically right next to Historia’s red Jetta. He left the sign on the dashboard Magath had handed off to him earlier in the week. Eren left their suitcases and his wallet in the car for now. Gabi took her zebra duffle, stuffing tater tots in her mouth by the fistful on the way into school. He dumped his empty coffee cup in the trash.

Most of the girls were present. It was insufferably silent, most of them napping, their heads pressed into their folded arms on the lone long table. The rest of the red lunch tables were folded up against the cream walls. An array of suitcases and duffle lined another wall.

Zofia was leaning against the wall by the cafeteria lines, sipping on a Capri-Sun, never a kid to be too far from her mom’s side if she were around.

“Zo!” Gabi shouted, a loud thunder in a dull space, launching at Zofia. She tossed her Capri-Sun away, catching Gabi easily, holding onto her like they hadn’t seen each other yesterday. Gabi had been begging him to let her sleepover now that school was about to finish and it was _almost summer_ and because of the tournament but Historia hadn’t allowed it.

Like a sixth sense, Historia whirled around the second the plastic the plastic hit the floor. " _¡Zofia Quiroga!_ " She hissed under her breath.

Zofia winced at her mother’s command, Gabi’s cheek nuzzling hers. An overly affectionate person, like Pieck. "Perdóname, Mamá," She released Gabi, and made a move for the discarded plastic.

He scooped it up before Zofia made it. “I got it,” He said, looking between Historia’s narrowed eyes and the chagrined brown eyes of her daughter. He walked over to the garbage bucket by the backdoor of the cafeteria.

Historia’s eyes followed him the whole way to and from, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. He hated that intense rush that shot straight to the tips of his toes every time he caught her eye. He was pretty sure she didn’t feel the same. It made him feel like a teenager.

He handed her the coffee, a little too forcefully. It would’ve sloshed over it there wasn’t a lid, ruining those nice white jeans she wore today.

She eyed it, him, suspiciously, before taking it. Historia searched his face for _something,_ before she relented. “Thank you, Eren.”

In the three years they’d known each other, Eren only knew a few facts about Historia. How she liked her coffee, for one. She loved to read, and it was rare he’d see her without a book or her Kindle like right now, only her satchel across her body. He bought her a bookshelf last Christmas which made her jump around in her living room like a little kid. It was cute. She was a writer for a couple of magazines, ran her own blog. Mostly worked from home.

And he knew scraps of her family life. Big family, lots of siblings, all of them born and raised in Córdoba. She was sixteen when her father hauled the three youngest kids to the states, settling in Los Angeles. She moved to Atlanta for Georgia Tech after finishing high school. Her accent hadn’t faltered in the decade she’d been here, and Eren loathed the way his insides shivered whenever his name rolled off her tongue.

He shrugged, inconspicuously sliding his fingers in his pockets. “No biggie.”

She sipped it carefully. It was probably lukewarm by now. Historia blinked in surprise at the taste. “You remembered.”

Eren nodded in affirmation. “Two creamers and a mountain of sugar. Can’t exactly forget all the times you’ve ran my sugar dry. Least this time it was the Burger King’s.”

Historia’s lips quirked into a smile over the lid, staring up at him through thick, black lashes. His heart stomped. “It’s not all the time. But, maybe, you should stop feeding your daughter so much sugar.”

Before he could retort, Theo Magath cut in. “Morning, Eren,” He greeted amiable, and, fuck, Eren almost forgot he was here too—literally standing _right next_ to her, scrolling through his phone. Facebook. “You’re right on time.”

Eren scratched the side of his jaw. “Thanks.”

Theo sipped on his own canteen of coffee, eyes returning to his Facebook feed. “Ready for this?”

Eren lifted his shoulders in a drawn-out shrug. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

“Don’t worry, they’re a quiet bunch. Shouldn’t give us any problems.” Theo explained how the weekend would play out, how long the days and games would be. What would happen if they didn’t make it to the semi-finals. Eren didn’t want to think they wouldn’t. Gabi was a competitive spirit, like him and Reiner. It would devastate her not to make it again.

The last two members of the soccer team trotted in, Gisa and Waiola, rubbing their eyes, slapping their cheeks. Theo announced it was time to go. All of them made quick use of the bathroom before moving onto the Greyhound, Gabi’s arm looped through Zofia’s. Eren walked behind all of them, Theo leading the way. Historia stuck to his side, finishing up her coffee.

Eren fished their suitcases out of his car, and returned to Historia and Theo strategically shoving the suitcases into the compartment. Theo left once he appeared. Him and Historia were left alone, working silently, the remaining girls in a single file line behind them. Gabi and Zofia were already inside.

“Why isn’t Reiner here?” Historia asked suddenly, after they loaded Abel’s suitcase. “I mean. Well. Why are you here instead of him?”

“You didn’t see? He got drafted into the Dallas Cowboys.”

“Oh.” She said, seemingly unimpressed, shifting one of the suitcases vertically “That’s nice. Good for him.”

Reiner usually went to all of Gabi’s tournaments. Gabi never minded that Eren didn’t go, nor Pieck. She loved her uncle. And it helped Eren out. “He’s gonna busier these days. He said he’d try to make it, but I dunno.” He grabbed Gisa’s purple suitcase and vertically stuffed it next to Abel’s. “Since they cut my hours, I guess you’ll be seeing a lot more of me.”

“I see,” She murmured. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Don’t be. I saw it coming. Just gotta start looking for something else.” Eren looked at her, standing there with her hands laced in front of her like a good little student. “Why’d you ask? Disappointed about spending the next four days with me? Gabi too thrilled about it either, but she seems over it.”

Historia thought about it. For a little too long. Eren wasn’t afraid of the answer before, but now he dreaded it. He hadn’t realized how arrogant he sounded until she just stood there. “No,” She finally said, a hint of a smile on the corner of her lips. “Reiner can be… a little annoying. I’d much rather be paired with you.”

 _Huh._ Instead of relief, Eren felt doubt. He turned away from her, shut the compartment, and double checked to make sure it was secure. “Really? I wouldn’t have guessed.”

Her slender features and big eyes hardened. Historia crossed her arms, narrowing her eyes up at him. “Why?”

Eren held up his palms, defensive. “It’s just… the way he talked about you.” Her penetrating gaze didn’t improve. He scratched the back of his head, wincing. “I—I dunno. I guess… I thought there was something going on.”

“No,” She shook her head. “There’s nothing going on between him and I.”

“Okay. I believe you.”

Theo poked his head out of the bus, slicing the weird tension away. “Let’s get going.”

* * *

Eren only had enough endurance to deal with one kid.

Gabi had been a fussy baby; never able to sleep through the night, never able to stay still when he brushed her hair, always whining—still did—, always knocking shit over like a sneaky cat and shoving whatever her grubby hands could clutch when him and Pieck weren’t paying attention. But even she had her moments of tranquility. Give her an iPad or a Nintendo and she was set for the next sixteen hours. Sometimes.

Dealing with _five other girls_ was not something Eren could imagine doing for the rest of his lift. Zofia didn’t count. Much like her mom, the kid was an angel, nose in her book or playing a game on her iPad with Gabi; the two of them snacking on the crackers Historia packed. Minding her own business. He always wondered how Gabi never got annoyed by her quietude. Armin’s’ passiveness used to annoy him.

But Jama started throwing paper balls. Eren sat all the way in the back, Gisa knocked out on his arm, watching the ordeal. Eventually Gabi joined in. He sighed. Eva and Able in the front started clambering their own balls back. Eren dodged one.

One of Gabi’s smacked Theo’s head. He’d been nodding off against the window, neck snug in a neck pillow, _Moana_ playing on the tiny screen above him long forgotten. He snapped awake with a quickness, shooting a laser-thin glare that could kill an insect. The entire bus fell into a hushed silence, only crinkles of cookie bags and the rain roaring outside tinning the quiet, tense air.

“S—Sorry, Coach,” Gabi stuttered, ridged straight in her aisle seat. Eren almost laughed.

“It was m—my fault, Coach,” Jama rushed in to defend her, sitting right in front of Eren. “I started this…”

Theo said nothing. He sighed through his flared nostrils, and faced the front.

Eren caught Historia out of his peripheral, suppressing a smile, concealing it behind her book. Waiola was asleep on her lap, one of Historia’s hands stroking her curly red hair back. He’d always thought Historia was a bit of a hardass—even if it was ridiculously hot how she bossed the older parents around at the PTA meetings and bake sales—but she hadn’t made a single motion or uttered a word to stop this ridiculous paper ball fight.

It started to trickle from there.

Over five hours in, one of those hours being stuck in stop-and-go early morning traffic, Eva was crying because Abel kept pulling on her hair. Eren thought ten-year-old’s would be over that phase. _Especially_ girls. _Apparently not._ Historia ordered Abel to switch seats with Waiola, Abel deeply pouting. Gisa was taking way too long in the bathroom, and the other girls were beginning to complain. Some of them were getting loud about being hungry. _I thought they were a quiet bunch?_ Eren grumbled, closing his MacBook, popping out his wired earphones.

Theo asked the driver to stop at the next exit off Interstate 75.

The immediate dots of sweat trickling his neck told Eren they were in Florida. And the angry purple-grey clouds, blocking the sun, but it didn’t matter because it still felt like hell blazing over his skin. He didn’t have to look at the brochure rack, but he grabbed a couple of those and stuffed them in his computer bag. He didn’t miss being back.

After the bathroom, they congregated to the one shop, and the four available restaurants. Most of the girls made a beeline for the Dunkin’ Donuts in the center of the plaza, Theo already at the front of the line with his sandwich and a cup of coffee.

Gabi and Zofia made their way to the Italian restaurant parked next to the Burger King with Historia. He hadn’t realized he was starving until he smelled the different doughs baking in the ovens of both places, melting cheese and popping grease. He’d packed snacks for Gabi but other than the quick sausage and cheese sandwich this morning, Eren had completely forgotten his protein bars.

Gabi’s hands were eager, on the tips of her toes, reaching for her cheese pizza on top of the glass.

“Hey, Historia?” Eren asked, swiping the cheese pizza onto Gabi’s tray. Zofia chose pepperoni.

Historia looked a little displeased he’d done that, about to reach for it herself. She stared up at him with squinted eyes. “Yes?” She said carefully.

“Have you ever thought about how these girls are probably gonna be taller than you pretty soon?”

Her face fell into a frown. She _pinched_ his side.

“ _Ow!_ ” He yelped, scooting away. Those dainty fingers of hers _hurt_.

“That’s what you get, bobo,” She huffed, grabbing her bread rolls. But it was true. Gabi was a few inches shy from Historia’s height. Zofia was already there, one of the tallest girls on the team after Jama.

Gabi poked her head out from behind Historia, flashing him a menacing glare. She’d definitely picked that up from strenuous soccer practices with Theo Magath. _Be nice!_ she mouthed, and gesticulated with two fingers pointing at both her eyes then to him.

Eren rolled his eyes. If he were more childish, he’d stick his tongue out. He asked for two slices of pepperoni, patting his pockets down. His heart stopped. Nothing.

He pulled his pockets inside out, his phone clutched in his fist. Empty pockets.

“ _Fuck!”_

Three pairs of eyes snapped to him, an array of confusion. The server behind the glass actually jumped at his outburst before joining in the looks of confusion.

“Dad!” Gabi hollered, flushing in embarrassment. “Language!”

He scrubbed a hand down his face, pulling at his heated skin, the facial hair he hadn’t bothered to shave in a couple of months. _Of all the fucking things to forget._ Almost three decades old and he was still leaving his wallet in the car like an irresponsible teenager. The locksmith already knew it was him calling the second his phone went off.

“It’s… nothing,” Eren waved his hand, disguising his panic with annoyance. “Sorry about that.”

The server was the first to look away. Then the girls, Gabi sighing in disbelief.

Just to be sure, he checked the Wallet app on his phone. He forgot to update his credit card. _Shit, shit shit!_ Would it be stupid to ask if they accepted PayPal? Probably.

Historia lingered, waiting.

Eren couldn’t explain why he couldn’t lie to her. This feeling simultaneously relieved him _and_ pissed him off.

He scratched the back of his head, and admitted, “…I left my wallet in my car…”

She shook her head, biting her bottom lip. “I got you, Eren.”

His brows snapped together. “You can’t cover me for the whole trip, though,” Eren said, astonished. Historia wasn’t exactly rich. Sure, she owned a house over an apartment, and her Jetta wasn’t the newest model. But it was just because she knew how to handle her finances, how to budget. Way better than he ever could.

She wasn’t asking for his permission. Historia moved her pasta bowl aside, setting his pizza down. “It’s fine,” She shrugged. “I don’t mind.”

“But—”

She ignored his protests, sweeping down the aisle with the tray of their food towards the cashier. “You can always pay me back later.” She offered.

He bit the inside of his cheek, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “Yeah. I guess.”

Gabi and Zofia were already squished against each other in a booth by the time the cashier rang them up, giggling over eeveelutions and the rare Pokémon they were hunting down in the game. Zofia shook a heavy helping of parmesan cheese onto her large slice.

Historia and Eren took the peeling booth behind theirs, Historia helping herself right next to him. Her perfume smacked his senses. Eren told himself it was just so she could keep an eye on Zofia, even though there weren’t many people at this rest stop. And they were directly behind them. It’s not like they’d get up and go without either of them reacting.

Eren shook some pepper flakes on his pizza. Historia nibbled on her pasta, sipped on her Sprite. It was awkward. It wasn’t often the two of them were alone. Really, they never were. Their kids were always around. Even now. And he figured Historia was still upset over his insinuation this morning.

But she paid for his food. And she was sitting next to him willingly—not exactly brushing against him but not too far.

Eren folded his pizza like a taco and bit into it. It was still warm, but the cheese tasted yesterday old. Probably re-heated from yesterday’s batch. It wasn’t noon yet, no lunch rush. He wasn’t about to complain out loud. Free pizza was free pizza.

Historia stared at him curiously, equal parts marveled and disgusted. “My brother’s do that.”

Eren didn’t know what to say. He just shrugged and continued to scarf down his pizza, up until the crust. Historia’s lips pulled into a quick line but she didn’t say anything more, and continued to eat. Occasionally she shook more parmesan cheese onto her spaghetti, the red sauce forming clumps.

Eren caught bits of conversations from the girls hanging around the Dunkin’ Donuts. Mostly about tomorrow. And their rival group, the Liberio team. And then sneakers squealed against the linoleum, feet pounding. Loud giggles. Theo’s irate complaints flew.

“ _Stop. This. Instant! Don’t you dare kick—Jama! Abel!”_ Eren looked over his shoulder, Waiola speeding across the threshold, fast as a bee, Abel munching on a sprinkled doughnut right behind her, kicking a yellow-blue soccer ball off to her. Where the soccer ball came from, Eren didn’t know. “ _Put that ball back immediately, Waiola!_ Watch it _with the people!_ ”

He winced, Jama barely dodging a family, spinning out of the way right before she crashed into the mom. “… Should we help him?” Theo wasn’t old, somewhere in his late forties with bulging blue eyes and sunken cheeks. He was still in decent shape, but he was slowing down as the years ticked by.

“ _You’re acting like a bunch of five-year-old’s! Stop this!”_

“No. He can handle them.” Historia shrugged briskly when she caught Eren’s skeptical side-eye. He’d have a much easier time catching them. It kind of pained him to see Theo struggling so much. “They should get it out of their system. We have another—” She checked her phone. “—five hours to go if we don’t run into after school traffic. Or rush hour.”

Eren scratched the side of his jaw, turning away from the commotion. “Yeah. Yeah, you’re right.”

Historia stared at him for a long time. It was a little uncomfortable.

Theo continued to boom behind him, the girls hysterical at this point. “ _Eva! Stop kicking the vending machines! It’s not gonna make it come out!...Jama! Would you give the damn ball back already! God!”_

She rubbed his upper arm soothingly. “Are you okay?” Historia asked, pulling him away.

Eren blinked, frazzled. “What do you mean?”

She made a circle in the air with her finger. “How’re you taking all of this? They’re not a very quiet bunch.”

He smiled slightly, dipping his head. “I guess I’m okay.” Eren said, though he wasn’t entirely sure. His thoughts were a little muddled, too many to sift through. Zofia cut her pizza into squares, eating them one by one. He’d follow that lead, go through his thoughts one by one.

“I used to play basketball in college,” He confessed. “This is… kinda reminding me of those years. Going to tournaments and stuff. It’s nice. Makes me a little sad, too. For what could’ve been.”

“I understand. I used to dance in high school.”

“I believe that.”

“I was never good enough to get a scholarship for it.”

“That sucks.”

She shrugged, truly no big deal. “It’s all right. It wasn’t what I wanted to do for the rest of my life.”

Eren nodded. Digital media design was what she’d gone to school for. Another fact he knew.

Theo had stopped yelling some time during this. Three of the girls stormed in—Eva, Waiola, and Jama, flushed from dodging Theo Magath this entire time. They went for the Burger King, ordering milkshakes. Like they needed any more sugar.

Theo, hands clutching the shoulders of Gisa and Abel, walked in. He glanced at Eren, large eyes constricting in suspicion.

Eren turned away. It was too late to think about how he should’ve helped. “How does Reiner do this?”

Historia blinked at him, a string of spaghetti hanging from her mouth. She hadn’t expected that question. Eren laughed.

She frowned, slurping it up. “What, leave his wallet in the car? The same way you did. It’s very easy.”

Eren rolled his eyes. “No, not that. Reiner doesn’t even have a car.”

“Because I can assure you, he’s done much worse,” Historia smirked. “You would think he’d be better at packing considering his career choice. But no. He’s forgotten his underwear plenty of times. And his foot spray. He’s horrible about toothpaste. We had many late night Walmart trips.” She realized she was getting a little off topic, and circled back, “Don’t compare yourself to him, Eren. It’s not even the first day.”

“It’s really not like that. It’s…” Eren thought. “How does he deal with being around so many kids?”

“Well.” Historia started, dabbing her mouth with a napkin. “He likes kids. I suppose that helps.”

“You too, I’m guessing.” He knew Historia always volunteered to chaperone.

“They can be fun.” Eren stared at her, raised a brow. She pouted. “Okay. They can be fun— _at times.”_ She amended, and he grinned in satisfaction.

Historia sectioned half of her hair, twisting it back with a clip she had tacked onto the strap of her satchel. “I always wanted a lot of kids.”

“Yeah?”

She hummed, avoiding his eyes, finishing off the rest of her spaghetti before picking the conversation back up. “Until I realized it’s not very practical. Babies are expensive creatures. I had many animals back home, but kids…” Historia struggled for the phrase. “Kids really take the cake.”

“Yeah. No kidding.” Eren laid his cheek on his hand. He finished up the second slice. Zofia leaned over her side, assessing Gabi as his kid punched furiously at the buttons of her Switch, in the middle of a very frustrating battle given her deeply scrunched face. “I wanted a big family too. Then I realized what a handful just _one_ kid is.”

Historia cracked a devious smirk. “Did you expect them to come out of the womb already obedient?”

“No! But…” Eren scratched his nape. “I dunno. I guess I didn’t think it’d be so… so difficult sometimes. Especially raising them on your own.”

She nodded solemnly, her eyes softening. “Yes. I understand.”

Having a hunch, Gabi’s eyes flicked up to him. She flashed him a suggestive look, eyes darting between him and Historia. She raised a positive thumb. He hoped Historia hadn’t noticed.

Eren glared at her, twirling his index finger, signaling for her to mind her own business. Gabi stuck her upturned nose in the air, and would’ve ignored him had Zofia not excitedly yelled, “Gabi! Look! It’s evolving!”

Gasping, Gabi snapped her neck back to the game. Eren wiped his fingers with the pile of napkin’s Historia had grabbed at the register. He leaned back against the booth comfortable. “I also never thought about being a dad before I turned twenty. Always thought I’d be married, and, at least, over twenty-five.”

Historia placed her empty bowl on top of his flat plate, and left them on the tray. She’d cleaned the whole plate. “I always knew I’d be a mother. I never gave thought to the age.”

“Don’t most girls want that?”

“Most, sure. Not all.” Historia shrugged, leaning back against the booth, lacing her fingers on her lap. “I had just turned twenty when I found out about Zofia,” She told him. “My father wasn’t exactly pleased, but I wasn’t living under his roof when it happened. There was nothing he could say.”

Eren nodded imperceptivity. “My dad was a father by the time he turned nineteen. He was already married out of high school. It’s crazy how life works out.” He pushed back a few loose strands of his hair tickling his eyes. “I almost followed exactly in his footsteps.”

Her brow quirked curiously. “You never married?”

“Nope.”

“And were you the child your father had, or…?”

“Zeke,” He told her. “My older brother.”

“Oh.” Historia blinked, shocked. “I had no idea. I guess I assumed you were an only child.”

Eren shrugged, rolling his ankles under the table. “We’re not close. He always tried to get close to me, but… I dunno. I didn’t feel it.” He frowned down at the table. “He’s ten years older than me and always tried to be more of my father than my brother whenever he was around. He only came over on weekends.”

She nodded. “I have an older sister. We’re eight years apart. She was very much like a mother to me.”

He wanted to say something about Mikasa, how he understood that undercurrent of bitterness in her tone. Mikasa tended to dote on him when they were growing up—still occasionally did whenever they visited each other—that it was _annoying_ , but a realization crashed through him. Historia was single. Had been single for as long as he’d known her. Zofia told him sometimes that she went out, but not in the last year.

“You might like him.”

Her brows furrowed deeply. She squinted up at him like she couldn’t believe the bullshit that came out of his mouth. Even though it wasn’t. “What?”

“Just.” Three decades old and he still couldn’t squeeze the lid shut on his big-ass mouth. “Zeke’s kind of quiet. He graduated top of his class. Good job. Likes to read, like you.”

Her face gradually stretched into a sincere laugh, some of her loose hair brushing against her apple cheeks. Historia turned away, shaking her head, the sun sliding through her pale strands, painting some of them in a gold hue.

She gathered the tray, sliding out of the booth with a practiced grace. “You have no idea what I like, Eren.”

* * *

He unplugged the wire connected to the dial-up. “Gabi, shower. Now.”

Gabi frowned in midair, landing on her butt on her bed. Her hair smacked her face, shoulders. “But why?”

Eren scooped the ancient, outdated device—looked about as old as whenever the hotel first bought it, bulky, dust sprinkled in between the buttons—and crammed into the drawer of the nightstand, right next to the Holy Bible, between both single beds. “Because I know you didn’t take one last night. You’ve been stuck on a bus for almost ten hours,” He explained. “You’re long overdue for one.”

She threw her head back all the way until her back plopped on the mattress in a dramatic, over-drawn flare. “But I don’t wanna!”

“Gabi, you stink.” Eren jut a thumb towards the bathroom behind him in emphasis. “Take a shower. Don’t make me say it again.”

She punched the still-made bed like a brat. “I do _not_ stink. You’re exaggerating, Dad.”

“Gabi.” Eren warned flatly, kneading his aching forehead. In true Yeager-Braun fashion, Gabi had a pile of protests ready, dishing them out like a card game. But Eren knew _the_ card to draw. “ _Don’t_ make me call mom.”

She flailed her arms and legs, whining. “Oh, come _on_! Don’t call mom!”

“Then stop making me say it.”

Gabi rose slowly, pulling herself into a sitting position, a frown marring her mouth. Her brown eyes were big and pleading. “You know, Uncle Reiner never told me to take a shower when I got off the bus. He let us jump in the pool right away.”

“I’m gonna have to talk to him. Showers are an everyday thing,” Eren said, and then sighed, hating the very idea of denying her a simple reprise for a long day. “You can go to the pool tomorrow.”

But Gabi threw her head back, annoyed, and groaned at the ceiling. _What is it with kids and showers?_ Eren grumbled. _They all act like it’s the end of the world, and then take fucking forever in them because they don’t wanna get out._ He could use a shower right now. A shower, then a nap. Forget dinner. Why did his child have to be the last room of the check-in? Gabi wouldn’t prank call anyone in the middle of the night. Zofia wouldn’t let her. But Eren wouldn’t put it past them to order ice cream at midnight, when they were supposed to be sleeping.

Was this Theo’s punishment for ignoring him during the rest stops? Probably. The guy seemed to secretly be a bitter, petty asshole.

Zofia looked up from one of the _Narnia_ books she was just about finished with, following Gabi was she marched over to her suitcase and hauled it onto her bed aggressively. “You do stink a little, Gabs. Especially your breath! It smells like all the Skittles you ate.”

Gabi gasped. “ _Zofia!”_ She threw open her suitcase flap. “You’re _supposed_ to be on _my_ side!”

Eren smirked, rubbing Zofia’s head, her hair lighter than her mother’s butterscotch mane. Zofia’s was more like banana fruit. A cat-like smile curved her mouth at the affection. “Thanks, Zofia.”

Gabi’s mouth twitched. Not in jealousy but revolt. “You’re such a kiss-butt, Zo.” She stuck out her tongue. “The teachers. Coach. Now my Dad.”

Zofia shrugged. “I get to get away with more.”

Eren grinned. Gabi scowled, ransacking her clothes. They all knew it was true. Gabi was actually older than Zofia by a couple of months, but Zofia was the more responsible of the two; always writing down project dates in the school agenda like she was supposed to, dressing herself for school, brushing her hair in the mornings and before bed.

“Make sure you go after her.” He told Zofia. “Set an alarm.”

Zofia nodded. “We know.”

“Right,” He said, a little dumb for forgetting that they’d done this plenty of times without him. Eren added, “Make sure she brushes her teeth before bed.”

"Yes, Papá—" She cut herself off, flushing beet red. She tried to conceal her face in her hunched shoulders. "Uh. Yes, I mean. Sorry, Mr. Yeager…"

“It’s fine,” He mussed her hair reassuringly. Eren did wonder, though he wouldn’t voice that question out loud. Not to her. “I don’t care—just… Don’t say it around your mom? I’m not sure she’d like it.” He took his hand away. “And I dunno how many times I have to tell you—call me Eren. Mr. Yeager’s my dad. I’m not _that_ old.”

Gabi opened her mouth, but closed it.

Zofia’s mouth twisted. Under her blunt bangs, her eyes flicked to Gabi briefly. Eren immediately _knew._ He’d been a mischievous kid once. “I don’t think my mother would mind if I called you that.”

He leaned back. “How do you know?”

She shrugged, and simply said, “I think my mother likes you.”

His heart sped, but his gaze slid to Gabi. Her clothes were suddenly so _fascinating_. She bused herself with folding and refolding them, and then tucked them into the TV stand drawers. Any excuse not to meet his narrowed eyes.

His child was a little infamous for feeding the most ridiculous ideas to Zofia, and for all of Zofia’s responsibility, she was an excellent wing woman, able to get them out of just about any situation with her good manners and soft spoken words. Sometimes it didn’t work. The first time he’d met Historia was in the principal’s office. Gabi had gotten into a fist fight, defending Zofia over this stupid boy who’d cut her hair in the middle of class.

The two of them reminded him so much of him and Armin, back when they were small, before the two of them went their separate ways. It strummed a weak string in his heart.

He sat down next to Zofia. “What makes you say that?” Eren asked gently.

She kicked her legs nervously, wondering if she should be telling him whatever observations she’d noticed. She’d probably only ever told Gabi. “… My mother doesn’t smile or laugh often.” Zofia confessed quietly.

His brain briefly flicked back those few bakes sales he'd been able to attend; those fake, stretched smiles of hers, that customer service voice she used. She never flipped it on him, though, which he appreciated. She probably didn't feel the need to put on a show around him after that first time in the principal's office. She'd been just as furious about the predicament. Gabi got off with only a warning because of Historia.

“I’ve noticed that.”

She folded and unfolded the edge of the page in her book, biting her lip. “And… She doesn’t talk to Reiner the same way she does to you.”

“She is pretty mean to me,” He joked.

Zofia flushed. “She’s… worse to Reiner.”

His brow quirked. “How so?”

She smiled slightly. “She looks like she wants to crawl in a hole and die whenever he gets too close to her.”

Gabi tossed a smirk over her shoulder, adding, “You should see him, Dad,” She threw a shirt over her shoulder. “He tries sooo hard to talk to her. She’ll completely ignore him when he’s talking.”

“She’s a savage,” He commented, smirking.

“But she doesn’t do that with you,” Zofia chanced a hesitant look at him, pulling on her lips. She closed the book. “And there’s… Her face gets _really_ red whenever we talk about you at the table.”

His eyes darted between the girls. Eren folded his arms across his chest. “Why are you guys talking about me at the dinner table.”

They were silent, before the two of them yelled, “No reason!” in perfect unison.

Eren rubbed his forehead, shaking his head. “Gabi, what’re you up to?”

His equally stubborn kid crossed her arms, thrust her chin to the side. Now that all her clothes were put away, there was nothing to distract her from his onslaught of questions. “Nothing! I already told you what I think this morning!”

“Gabi.”

“Nothing! I swear!”

Eren buried his face in his hands. “Gabi.” He repeated.

“Dad.” She said, equally flat.

Zofia sighed. “She told my mother that you like her.”

He was surprised his neck didn’t snap from how fast it popped up.

Gabi’s head whipped towards her, mouth hanging open shock. “ _Zofia!_ ” She screamed, stomping her foot, the carpet muffling the impact. Without how loud she screamed, Eren was equally surprised the whole floor wasn’t knocking at their door.

Gabi’s eruption bounced off Zofia’s shoulders. “What’s it matter, Gabs?” She flashed her open palms. “She doesn’t believe us because we’re kids.”

Now it was Eren’s turn to flop on the bed. “ _Fuck_ ,” He muttered under his breath, staring at the dingy ceiling. Eren took a deep breath, trying to relax his racing heart. Maybe Zofia was right and Historia didn’t believe a word of it. The same way he didn’t believe Gabi when she’d told him this morning.

Still. He was record scratching, stuck on the _what if_ possibility. But dating was weird. He never lasted long. Those rare ones who went past the third date never made it past a couple of months. He never liked them enough to introduce Gabi to them. He never wanted to get Gabi’s hopes up for anything permanent, get her attached to someone only to yank the rug from under her feet.

He covered his eyes with his palms. “Gabi,” He started. “You can’t do this gain. It didn’t work with mom. What makes you think it’s gonna work this time?”

“Because I’m positive this time! She’s single, you’re single—I know she likes you!” Gabi pointed out, like it was obvious and that it answered any of the remaining question he had swirling through his mind. “And you’re both lonely.”

He dug the heels of his palms into his eyes, until the sparks dotted his vision across the blackness. “I’m not lonely, Gabi,” He said, a little forcibly. Eren slowly sat up, resting his forearms on his thighs, staring Gabi down. “I like being alone. There’s a difference between being alone and feeling lonely.”

“Well,” She started, indignant, facing him with her arms crossed tightly, and an equally sharp gaze. “When I’m not home, what’re you doing?”

“Working.”

“And _then_?”

“And _then_ hanging out with you.”

Gabi rolled her eyes. “Dad. I’m talking about when I’m _not_ there.”

“I dunno.” He really did have to think. Eren pushed some strands of his hair back. “Work out. Sleep. Sometimes I play video games.”

Gabi raised her hands, like she won this argument. “Exactly! That’s boring!” She dumped her empty suitcase back on the carpet, flouncing on her bed, tucking one leg under her knee. “You should be doing something else. Something… fun.”

Eren wanted to laugh. “And you think that ‘something fun’ is getting Historia to be my girlfriend?”

She threw her hands up. “Well, I dunno, Dad! It’s better than being by yourself all the time.”

“I already told you—”

“And, _like I said,_ I want Zofia to be my sister!”

He looked to Zofia, who’d been quiet this whole conversation. He wondered if she agreed, or if she was going along with whatever Gabi said.

Zofia cast him an apologetic glance, smiling thinly. She wanted it too.

Eren dumped his head in his hands, his fingers forking through his hair. Kid logic was so frustratingly cute. But, fuck. When did his love life become his ten-year-old’s priority? _Since it benefits her more than me,_ he thought dimly.

“C’mon, Dad,” Gabi probed when the room had gone silent for too long. “You like her, too! Admit it.”

“ _Yes!_ ” He gave in. “Yes, I like her, okay?” He shouldn’t be admitting this to a couple of kids. What would they do with this kind of info? But it didn’t even matter anymore because Gabi had already sold him out.

She wasn’t surprised by his admission. She was ridiculously smug. “We’ll help you.” Zofia nodded vigorously. “Leave it to us!”

He looked between them. “First of all, I don’t need your help. And second,” Eren paused. “It’s… It’s not that simple, guys. This isn’t like _The Parent Trap._ You can’t just stick us together.”

Gabi smirked, never one to back down from a challenge. “Watch me.”

Eren rolled his eyes, rising to his feet. “Gabi. Shower. Now.” He ordered, having enough of this conversation. His child knew no bounds, and could argue back and forth for an eternity. If she didn’t become a famous soccer player, she could be a lawyer. His wallet melting in his car up state already hurt. “I’m not telling you again.”

She bargained, “Only if you tell Historia you like her!”

Eren pulled his phone out of his pocket, found the bright green Phone app on the top of his Home Screen, and flashed Gabi his Favorite’s list, his thumb dangerously hovering over Pieck’s name.

Gabi blanched. “Okay! Fine!”

He smirked. “I’ll be back before bed time so you can call her.”

“What. Ever.”

When the door clicked shut, Eren pulled up their message log, fishing around for the keycard to his room in his pocket. His phone was on the verge of twenty percent. Thankfully his room was right next to theirs. He texted Pieck, letting her know that they arrived safely although a little off the intended time.

Eren halted. His suitcase was outside, against the wall like a lone stranger. Weird. He might be a little sleepy, a headache disorienting the lighting, but he was pretty sure he’d left his suitcase inside his room.

Sliding the card into the slot, Eren waited until the light blipped green. The new kid at the concierge desk said it might take a minute, a new system in place. The lock unbolted. He turned the knob.

Eren almost dropped his phone.

The bass heavy Spanish music—a man chanting _fuego, fuego, fire, fire_ —thumping from Historia’s phone was too loud, and the door hinges ghostly silent. She was so into the song, humming along loudly, her knees bending, hips lightly swaying to the beat. She opened the drawer of the TV stand, placing her folded clothes inside.

It was so cute. Except for the part where was nearly nude. Save for her underwear that didn’t conceal much.

He must’ve made a move, or a sound, _something_ —though, Eren was pretty sure he was frozen, unable to look away, unable to utter a sound—because Historia suddenly turned to the side and _shrieked._

 _"¡Por el amor de dios, Eren!_ " She jumped back a few steps, her arms flying to cover her modest breasts. " _What the_ fuck _are you doing here?!"_

Eren tore his eyes away from her slender thighs, _far away_ from that thick lace band of the thong that hugged the soft curves of her hips perfectly. He met her furiously red face, her wide eyes. His mouth was dry; head empty.

She was the first to break the stifling silence, struggling to rip the folded cover off the bed to cover herself. “Well! Don’t just stand there como un boludo! She shouted. " _¡Cierra la pucha puerta!”_

Eren snapped out of it. He didn’t have to understand to know what she demanded. His foot kept it open a crack, nothing that would bother Historia if someone passed by. There weren’t a lot of people wandering on the fourth floor anyway.

He needed to find his voice. Something was weird in the air between them now. Nah, just him. “This is, uh.” Eren cleared his throat. “My room.”

Her jaw nearly dropped, wrapped up. “¿Estás cargando?” She shook her head furiously, loose hair flying. “Are you serious?”

Eren smiled weakly, wiggling the keycard in his other hand.

Historia blew out a harsh breath through her nostrils, silent for some time, the music flipping to the next song. Another song in Spanish, softer this time, not as danceable. She stared at him through hardened eyes like it was his _intention_ to walk in on her dressed in almost nothing but her birthday.

Finally, Historia broke their gaze, shaking her head down at the carpet. "Qué quilombo," She muttered in disbelief. "I can’t believe this is happening.”

"You're right," He said. "I'm gonna go jump off a cliff now."

"Eren," Historia sighed, touched a hand to her forehead. She rolled her eyes at him. "Don't be dramatic. Just come inside. We can—"

He didn't. Eren rolled his

suitcase inside, tucked it by the threshold. "Take care of my suitcase this time."

Her face pinched in confusion. "Wait—"

But Eren was already gone, stomping towards the elevator.

* * *

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

The concierge, a woman with short, sandy hair, cringed at his outburst. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Yea—Eren,” Her name tag clipped to her green vest read _Hitch._ “But the hotel’s been booked for weeks. Flag football and soccer tournaments are a really big thing around here. We also have that Disney promotion for the start of summer going on.”

Eren wanted to face plant the front desk but had enough decency not to. Those aforementioned soccer kids were lounging around the lobby. Boys, girls. Legs draped over arm rests, noses in iPads or cellphones, some of them walking in from the pool with damp towels draped over their shoulders like capes, sandals leaving wet tracks on the polished marble floor. A lot of families were waiting in line, their kids on the verge of tears from boredom, parents ready to pass out on a soft, cold hotel bed.

He grimaced, turning back to Hitch. “Can I sleep in the lobby?”

“That’s against hotel policy.”

He just about wanted to pull his hair out. He thought this fuck-up had been just a colossal mistake but easily fixable. Maybe the booking agent punched it into the system wrong. Maybe the concierge clicked the wrong file while he’d been getting all the suitcases out, and Theo dealt with the reservations. Historia had accompanied the girls to the bathroom. Maybe it was glitch in the system. This was 2018. Eren refused to believe something like _this_ still happened.

It wasn’t Theo Magath’s intent to stick them together in one room with _one fucking bed._ No. But he _had_ to have noticed that their room number was the same, and the asshole didn’t say a word when he came outside to hand him the keycard.

No. This had to the handiwork of two ten-year-old girls. How they did it, Eren wouldn’t ever know. Didn’t _want_ to know. But he gave his kid credit where it was due. She was a little genius.

He let loose a frustrated sigh, straightening his back. “Any other hotels you can recommend to me?”

“Weeelll… I’m not _supposed_ to…” Hitch trailed off, searching his face. She had to be as young as him, probably working off college debt. She smiled. “But you look like you saw a ghost, so I’ll check for you.” There was a silence between them, broken only by her fingers flying across the keyboard, murmurs of mom’s trying to calm their children from the verge of a breakdown. His head throbbed with a dull headache.

“Ex-wife?” Hitch asked suddenly.

“What?”

“Like, you’re here with your new girlfriend, saw your ex-wife across the corridor, or something?” She elaborated, her eyes never leaving the computer screen though her lips twitched in a smile. “So now you wanna get as far away from both of them as possible before a cat fight breaks out.” Hitch concluded with a shrug.

“Uh. No. Nothing like that,” Eren said, puzzled. “But that… sounds pretty… crazy.”

“You wouldn’t believe how often it happens.” Hitch hummed, and, finally, her fingers ceased. “Okay, so! The closest I could find was the Marriott about fifteen miles west from here. They still have rooms available.”

Eren dropped his head in his hands. _Fifteen_ miles? He didn’t even have a car, let alone his fucking _wallet_ to rent one. Or pay for a new room. And what the fuck was he even _thinking_ anyway? He’d have to beg someone for money like a bum, and, fuck Eren _hated_ begging. He knew Reiner would help him out with no questions but Eren hated how much he continued to owe the guy.

A small, cool hand pulled one of his down, away from his head on the verge of exploding. “What’re you doing, Eren?” Historia asked in good humor, dressed in one of those sheer beach dressed over her two-piece bikini. “You’re not leaving me here.”

”I—“

She grinned. ”Our kids heard me scream. They came after you left, wondering what happened.”

He wanted to bite his fist. And stomp on the way his heart absolutely flipped at her words. _Our kids._ Disgusting. He liked it so much.

Instead Eren muttered, “I’m trying to get this…” He flicked a pathetic hand at the computer. “problem fixed.”

Historia pat his shoulder reassuringly. “It’s not a problem. You’re making it into one.” She turned to Hitch. “Sorry he had to bother you.”

Hitch only shrugged. “No problem. Just glad it’s been resolved. Enjoy you stay!’ She grinned, waving.

“Thank you!”

“But—” Eren started.

“Let’s go,” Historia tugged on his hand, dragging him away from the concierge desk, through the congest lobby. The orange and violet sky filtered through the clean windows. Historia seemed to be guiding him towards the elevator.

He ripped his eyes away from their laced hands, looking over his shoulder at Hitch. She took the next customer but met his eyes with a smug grin and a wink.

Eren faced forward, drawing some unknown fortitude together. “Historia, we—”

“—will share the room.” It was negotiable.

His jaw dropped at the back of her head. “Are you serious?”

Historia looked over her shoulder, her affable expression dulling at his reluctance. “We’re adults, aren’t we?”

“Yeah…”

“So, then? Is there a problem?” She challenged. Eren couldn’t say anything, his free hand scratching his heated neck. “We can’t share the room like two adults would?” Historia tried again.

“Of course we can,” He said uneasily, his fingers working overtime on his neck, the realization of how he’d acted trickling in. All because he didn’t think he could handle being around her? What kind of cowardly nonsense… He was so mortified. She probably shared a room with Reiner all the time. It wasn’t a big deal. It wasn’t.

“I guess…” He said when they were arriving at the elevators. “I’ll take the chair.”

Historia shot him a dirty look, punching in the button for the elevator with her knuckle. “You’re not taking the chair, Eren,” She snorted. “The bed’s perfectly sized to fit both of us.”

“You cannot be serious about this.” He deadpanned.

She flashed him a grin, all nonchalance and genuine eagerness. It was infectious. “But I am!” Historia shook their still laced hands when Eren shook his head in response. “It’s just four days, Eren. No big deal.”

This was a huge fucking deal.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to moonwife for the Spanish corrections!

Something was wrong with Gabi.

As her coach, Eren expected Theo to be the first to notice, but the short, stout man was a little too busy—all his attention honed on Jama.

She'd stolen the show, effortlessly sliding in for the assist. Perfectly executed traps and pass-offs. She even kicked three goals in the first half of yesterday's final match. And that one bicycle-kick almost made Theo toss his visor off his head in victory.

But it should be _Gabi_ doing all of this. And more.

As offense for the team, Gabi was _the_ most valuable player—not Jama, a midfielder. Or even Gisa, who'd stepped up in assists for Gabi's lack thereof. Eren wanted to help, absolutely loathed feeling so helpless, but he could only grit his teeth, clench his fist in his pocket, and _watch_. The fact that they were _winning_ should've been the perfect excuse to keep her motivated. But it was the opposite. She just kept slowing down, like weights were wrapped around her shins, dragging her down. Eren also took note of how many times her hand flew to her stomach, face pinching in pain. Almost noon and he was able to count it on his all fingers and almost all his toes.

He wished he knew what to do.

"Did she say anything this morning?" The sound of Historia's voice ripped his attention away from the game. She'd also noticed Gabi's inertia; brought it up last night while they sat together in bed and watched _The Greatest Showman._ They'd talked about it briefly during half-times but the games were distracting and chaotic _._

"No, but she seemed kinda mad."

"About what?"

Eren raised his shoulders. "How'm I supposed to know? It's Gabi." He pushed some loose hairs back, his brain flipping through this morning again like a camera reel. She _did_ have a little more of an attitude than usual. Yesterday hadn't been as bad. And she'd been more desolate yesterday compared to the angry little goblin she'd been this morning. Once they'd arrived at the park, it had escalated to full on chihuahua barks. Within the second half of the first game, she'd received a yellow flag for unsporting behavior. Zofia, Historia, nor Eren could save her from it. Theo didn't even _try._

He shook his head, wondering _where_ she got that hot temper from. "She's too much like me sometimes."

Historia frowned, tipping her pink visor over her hairline to wipe off the sweat accumulating there. It was a beautiful day from hell, not a single puffy cloud in the blue sky and the early noon sun blazing high. "You know that's not entirely it." She said softly.

He dropped his head slightly. "Yeah, I know." Eren slid his eyes over to Theo, whose arms were crossed tightly, his sunken face soaked in sweat. He shook his head from time to time in disappointment, writing off something on his clipboard. Eren knew winning wasn't enough, but shouldn't the man show a little excitement that they were? Then again, he thought that would be motivation enough for Gabi to kick off whatever mood she was in. But it wasn't.

Eren leaned over to Historia, whispering confidentially, "I'm also concerned how this one's not doing much about it." He recalled his own high school coach. Erwin was never like this.

"Yes, I see."

Eren turned, and realizing how close they were, leaned back, scratching the side of his clean-shaven jaw. Sharing a room for over two days did not lessen her impact on him. It made things _worse_. He wanted this tournament to end. He kind of didn't.

"... Is he usually like this?"

"No. It's strange of him." Historia tipped her head in amusement, poked his arm. "But if she's so much like you, wouldn't it be easier for you to understand whatever's going on with her?"

He winced internally, dropped his hand, slid it into the pocket of his black fleece pants. "You'd think, but no." His brain continued to scramble apart like an egg. Gabi hadn't sprained anything. She hadn't been hit, pushed— _she'd_ done the pushing. "I can't figure it out."

Historia didn't offer another word of comfort, just pulled his hand out of his pocket and held it, grounding him. The first half finished with not another flag pulled. But during the five minute half-time, Gabi trudged off without grabbing anything to drink.

Theo gripped Zofia's shoulder, rooting her in place. "Let her go. She needs to cool down." He told her, small, sharp eyes roving over the remaining girls. Nile and Marie Dok drove in from their week vacation in The Keys sometime Thursday night with their triplets. "It's time to consider letting her sit out the next segment."

Eren opened his mouth to disagree, his eye still on Gabi gradually creeping farther away, but Historia beat him to it. "You should talk to her," She said to Theo, stern yet gentle.

Theo gave her an annoyed look. "Why?"

"What do you mean, 'why'?" She united Waiola's ponytail, water sluicing into her hair with the bottle she'd plucked from the stocked cooler Nile and Marie were gracious enough to bring with them. "You've been ignoring her, Theo. For two days. You know she's not like this."

Jama shuffled on her feet, guilty about basking in the attention. Eren put a reassuring hand on her head. "It's not your fault," He assured quietly. "You've been doing great."

She blushed up at him.

"Historia," Theo grumbled, a fist pressed to his wrinkled forehead, like they've had this conversation many times. "What Jama's doing is amazing work. I never expected something like that from her. She should be shown appreciation for how she's been playing. Is that wrong? That the attention's suddenly not on Gabi?"

She cast him a blank look. "That's not what I'm saying." She sectioned Waiola's vermillion hair into three parts. Waiola kept her eyes down, sipping on her yellow Gatorade, acting like she wasn't paying attention. "I'm saying you need to be better about your expectations. Some of them are unrealistic."

His nostrils flared, a bull ready to launch. "I do not—" Theo's jaw worked until he reluctantly swallowed his initial outburst. He frowned at the commotion around them, eyed the rival team on the other end of the sidelines. "You know how Gabi can be when she doesn't get her way." Theo offered, eyes flickering to Eren like he'd agree with his statement. "She's frustrated her teammates are doing better than her."

Eren shook his head, grabbing a water and a PowerAde, slamming the cooler shut. Whatever little smile that had settled after Historia's quick defense disappeared. "That's not it."

He squirreled around the narrow line of kids, coaches, the remaining families lingering behind the white lines to watch the day's final games. Finals were on Monday morning, the humid air electric with anticipation for Monday's list.

Gabi was by herself, tucked into the shade of the trees lining the chain link fence. She sat cross-legged, her head pressed on her shins.

Eren crouched by her side, rubbing the small of her back, her jersey soaked in seat. "What's up?" He carefully poured some of the ice-cold water over her head, the liquid seeping into her hair. "You look like you're in a lot of pain."

She shivered at the onslaught. The shade offered a few degrees of reprieve. "I'm having a bad day."

"It's been more than a day."

"Okay. A bad _two_ days."

"Gabi."

"But I _am,_ " She insisted. "That's what Coach said at breakfast."

"Forget what he said. How do _you_ feel?"

Her arms wound around her stomach. "I feel… weird." Gabi sniffed. "It wasn't so bad yesterday. I think it's getting worse."

 _Yesterday?_ Eren tried not to let the panic mount his face. "What's getting worse? Tell me."

"There's… um…" She hesitated. "A pain… in my stomach."

His brain floundered. "Like… a stitch in the side? Stomachache?" His fingers pressed gently on the back of her neck, working out the tension building in those muscles. She was unbelievably rigid. "Why didn't you tell me this yesterday?"

"'Cause you would've worried." She said in a meek little voice.

He squeezed her shoulder. "Gabi. It's my job to worry about you. You have to tell me these things. Don't hide them from me."

She shook her head, damp ponytail smacking from side-to-side, some water drops flicking onto him. "I feel like throwing up."

"If you need to throw up, then do it."

" _I can't!”_ She screamed into her legs, shaking him off. "I've been trying _all day!_ It's like it's stuck!"

Eren lightly tapped the PowerAde against her head, minding her outburst. "Drink a little. Slowly."

"I don't want it."

"Gabi," He warned. "Just a little at a time. You're gonna pass out. You've barely eaten the last couple of days."

She didn't respond for a beat. With a deep breath, Gabi raised her upper body, detangled her arms. She took the PowerAde with shaky hands. Her face was splotched red, her natural tan diluted to a pale color. Her breaths were harsh, uneven. Gabi looked _awful._

A whistle blew off a couple of fields from them, loud protests flying over with the referee dropped a red flag against the Hizuru team. Back at field three, Zofia downed a bottle of water, sitting cross-legged on the grass, Historia right behind her. The rest of the Shiganshina team huddled around Theo while he flipped through his clipboard for plays, adjusted his visor. Historia fretted over Zofia's hair, shooting disapproving looks towards Theo. He ignored them. Sometimes her eyes drifted to them.

"Are you still mad at me, Dad?" Gabi asked softy.

Eren tore his gaze away from Historia. "About what?"

"About what I did," She said miserably. "With the rooms."

 _Is that what this is about?_ Eren hated to think his attitude had _this_ kind of effect on her. "I was annoyed." He admitted, recalling mild hangover yesterday morning at the hotel's breakfast buffet. Him and Historia decided to visit the hotel's bar the night they'd arrived. "You shouldn't have done that, but I also shouldn't have taken it out on you."

Her small shoulders slumped. "I just wanted to help." She mumbled.

"I know," Eren put his hand on her head, swaying it. She didn't make an effort to push him away. "But if anything ever happens between me and Historia, it'll be because of us. Not you. Or Zofia." He poked her cheek. " _You_ should be focused on winning the tournament."

"Yeah. I know."

Eren tipped his head, let his hand fall away. "What, you don't want to win?"

Gabi frowned, shooting him a tired half-glare. "Of course I wanna win. What kind of question is that?"

He almost smirked. She had such a strong competitive spark, an ember endlessly fuming smoke no matter how much water doused it. Like him and Reiner. "Then what's with the defeatist attitude? Your team's the best here, Gabi. You've only lost one game."

Her mouth twisted. "But what's the point of winning if I'm dying?"

Eren almost rolled his eyes, knocking his head against the thick tree bark. "You're not dying, Gabi. You're perfectly healthy."

"How do _you_ know?" She countered. "My head feels like it's about to explode!"

He didn't, but Eren wouldn't tell her that. And now learning about her head had him spooked. He checked the time. They had about a minute left. Eren swallowed his fears and said, "We'll figure out what's wrong when we get back to the hotel. Just get through this game." He pat her head, pocketing his phone. "Okay? We need to head back now."

Gabi didn't like the answer, but she didn't voice a protest. "Okay." She struggled to get to her feet, exhausted. Maybe Theo was right, and benching her would be a good idea. But Eren knew Gabi. She'd put up a fight, and truck on until she collapsed.

After pouring the rest of the water on her, Eren carried her on his back. Gabi went limp in his hold.

"Has this happened before, Gabi?" He asked. "Tell me the truth."

Gabi thought for a beat. "No."

Eren nodded, Historia's eyes glued to him as he made his way back. " _Please,_ tell me something right when it happens next time."

He could feel her nodding softly on his shoulder. "Okay. Hey, Dad?"

"What?"

"You smell."

He snorted. "You smell worse. Take a shower when you get back to the hotel."

Gabi sighed. "I _hate_ showers." She grumbled.

"So?" She pressed once Eren set Gabi down. She slinked off towards Theo, Zofia's arm roped around her shoulders. Gabi's head fell on Zofia's shoulder. "What happened?"

Eren slid his sweaty hands in his pockets. Historia sprayed him with water, a blast of cold air, and he twitched, trying not to smile. "I have no idea." He hated it. He hated not knowing. Being in the dark was fine when it came to him, not his kid. Weren't parents supposed to have all the answers? "She says her stomach hurts really bad. Since yesterday. And she has a headache."

"Yesterday," Historia repeated in a low murmur. "I couldn't tell."

"Me neither." He ran a thumb across his hairline. "She thinks she's dying."

Historia didn't laugh, quietly gazing at the field. Besides being the most prepared, she looked cute today—a simple white tank top tucked into light wash shorts, the hems ripped. Puma sneakers and blonde hair tied into the braid she'd demanded he tie together this morning. And her five layers of sunscreen.

"It could be a migraine," She concluded after a few moments, pointing up at the still cloudless sky. "This weather is the worst for them."

"Yeah, I know. I used to live here," Eren said. "Used to play flag football with Reiner."

"Here?" She said, interested.

He gave a curt nod, the players returning to the field. Gabi stretched her arms over her head. "A city called Trost, right around Fort Lauderdale."

Historia picked up the hint of bitterness in his tone. She didn't ask him to elaborate. "I see."

The players spread into their formations. Nile and Marie's girls were still behind the white line, standing by Theo. Zofia executed the punt. "She says it's never happened before."

Historia squeezed his forearm, snatching his attention away from the game. Her eyes were soft and knowing. "Hey. It'll be okay, Eren," She soothed, her thumb smoothing his elbow. "It really could be nothing—just a migraine. I can give her something when the game's over. If that's okay, of course."

"Yeah. I guess." Jama beat Gabi to the steal, clearly passing it off to Gisa. Gisa effectively trapped it, feigning a left, and spinning away from their opponent. She passed it off to Waiola, who charged forward with all her might. Gabi dragged behind all of them, squinting, panting. Eren shook his head. He kind of wished Theo had convinced her to sit out. Nile and Marie's girls looked ready for some action.

"I'm just worried it's a whole lot of something."

"I know," She agreed, briefly tapping the side of her head on his arm, taking it away just as quick. "But let's hope it's not."

* * *

Once they were back in the hotel, all of them retreated to their rooms. Historia changed into a one piece suit with some floral design. She took a few of the girls to the pool after stopping by Gabi and Zofia's room to give her the medication. He passed Theo in the bar on the way to the gym, quietly celebrating alone.

The Shingeki team went undefeated today, a comeback from the one loss they'd suffered yesterday. Gabi seemed a little better after learning that fact. Still, Eren couldn't shake the feeling that something else was off with Gabi. He didn't want to be mad that she'd kept her stomach pain from him, and the headaches. He wanted to believe her when she said she hadn't experienced it before. But how else could he know she wasn't hiding another symptom from him? One that could be much worse?

His workout at the hotel's gym nor his hot shower calmed his nerves. There was no point asking Reiner. Dude was horrible about answering texts and phone calls. Eren decided to search online. A _mistake_. After the third link, his own stomach felt queasy, ready to deposit the half of a protein bar he'd finished munching down the toilet. He tried to distract himself, opening up Indeed, LinkedIn, searching for jobs, filling applications...

But he missed Historia.

He could use her calm energy right now. She never panicked. And even tipsy, she was still so composed. Eren never thought this tiny ass woman knew how to hold her liquor. She didn't seem like a heavy drinker. The only time she broke her composure was to beam those smiles at him. The skin of smiles that stuck to his skin, worse than the humidity. He had to keep reminding himself it wasn't a date. They were two adults—sort of friends—sharing a room, sharing food and drinks, and swapping embarrassing stories about their kids, little hints of their lives… But that didn't stop him from thinking it _felt_ an awful lot like one.

And after getting a taste of what it'd be like to wake up next to her every morning—her warm, petite body squeezed against his, her silk hair in his face, her peach scent lingering on her side of the bed, even the drool on his arm...

He rolled his eyes. _Ugh._

Eren shut his MacBook, sliding it back on the nightstand and threw the thin white blanket over his legs. _He_ wanted to vomit now.

He wasn't sure how long he'd been passed out until a weight pressed on the small of his back. His eyes fluttered. He thought it was Gabi at first. She used to wake him up by using him as her personal pony when she demanded they go to the park at the ass-crack of dawn. But Gabi didn't have a keycard for his room. This body was heavier.

His eyes flew open. And those soft hands smoothing over his shoulders, then slipping under his shirt were definitely _not_ Gabi's.

He confirmed his suspicion when he glanced over his shoulder, Historia grinning down at him. She was in her purple flannel pajama shirt already, smelling fresh out of the shower, a floral aroma like flowers beginning to bloom. He must've been exhausted if he hadn't heard the music from the bathroom. And it set his body on edge already—being _this_ close to her. He needed to keep it together. Keep it cool. 

"Nice nap?"

"What're you doing?"

"I'm going to give you a massage, bobo," She responded, sliding his shirt higher. Eren shifted, allowing her to lock it under his arms, the chill of the room nipping his skin. He tried not to shiver when her hands returned. She dug into his sore shoulder blades with those pointed heels of her palms, and Eren sucked in a sharp breath. "You're so tense!"

He grimaced. "Why do I feel like you're calling me a dumbass every time you say that?"

Historia grinned. "It's close!" Her smile fell away, her hands stopping. "Do you want me to stop?"

Eren shook his head, smiling. "No, it's fine. Keep going." Historia pressed down too hard again, and his nose pinched. It didn't hurt, more on the uncomfortable side. His muscles still stung from his workout.

"Hey. Thanks for today."

"It's no problem. You would've done the same if it were Zofia."

He didn't say anything for a moment, seeking comfort in her soft hands. But she kept _ruining_ it with her rough presses, kneading at his back like dough. "How's Gabi doing?"

"She seems better now. She got in the pool for a bit. Started a water fight with Jama." Historia reported, her hands working on his neck, squeezing a little too hard. "We almost got kicked out."

"Hm. Not surprised."

Historia giggled. "Yes," She applied more pressure, sliding her palms down. That wasn't the worst. It was almost nice. "Zofia was about to fall asleep so I told them to go to the room. They should be asleep." The two of them listened for the TV. Or their erratic giggles that crept through the wall when they should've been sleeping at night. Nothing but silence and the humming of the AC by the window.

"Good. Peace and quiet. They need their rest. Finals are on Monday."

She drummed against his back in a burst of excitement. "What about tomorrow? We're going to the Happiest Place on Earth!"

Eren buried his face in his pillow with a groan. " _Thanks_ for the grim reminder."

"Aww! Don't be such a grump, papito." She cooed sweetly. She dragged her nails down his spine. Eren bit his lip, hard, forcing himself to keep still. Propel that rush of blood to make an instant U-turn. "It'll be fun."

"I don't see _how._ "

She did it over and over and _over_ again, driving him insane, his sanity shredding apart with every drag of her nails. Eren was sure he was drawing blood from how hard he kept his lip between his teeth. And now he was getting uncomfortable. How did they go from no-touching for over three years to full on bodies pressed together almost every time they were around each other? He didn't hate it at all, but he was stupefied by how much had changed in so little time.

"Have you ever been there?"

"No," He coughed into his elbow, and released a breath he'd been holding. "My family was more of a Busch Gardens and Universal Studios type of people."

"Hm." Her thumbs pressed rough circles on his lower back. His eye twitched. Eren wasn't sure if he should be grateful she stopped, or if he should beg her to go back to what she'd been doing before. "I can imagine that. All those roller coasters. The American cartoons. The comics. It's perfect for you."

"How would you know? You barely know anything about me."

"True. But I'd like to."

Eren wasn't sure what to say to that. Why his heart raced at her earnestness. No, that was dumb. He knew why. But Eren shrugged, folding his arms under his chin. "What about you? Ever been to Disneyland? You said you first moved to Cali."

"No, never," Her palms circled up to the middle of his back. That wasn't terrible. She was applying just the right amount of force. "We begged our father many times but he said no, that we were all too old for that stuff."

He shot a dirty look over his shoulder. "You're never too old for Disney. _You'd_ fit right in." She pinched his side, and he yelped. " _Ow! Okay! Sorry!_ "

Historia laughed. "You better be!" She dug her knuckles into his shoulder. "And you better be enjoying this, Eren! I don't do this for just anyone."

His brow quirked. "What, give massages?"

"Yes!"

"… Not even to Reiner?"

"No. Way!" She shouted, a little more than offended. "Ese forro doesn't even sleep in the bed with me. Have you seen that bull of a man—he'd take up the entire bed."

Eren blinked owlishly at the wall. So they _did_ share rooms. Sometimes. But never the bed. That could mean a lot of different things—Historia wasn't comfortable, she was absolutely right when she'd told him that nothing was going on between them. It aligned completely with Zofia's comments about her annoyance with Reiner… Damn. Why was he believing in the dreams and desires of ten-year-olds?

But he wondered. Did Gabi try setting them up at some point too? And obviously failed miserably _._ He couldn't think about it for too long. Historia prodded her elbow into his back, a shock of discomfort.

"Can I be honest with you?"

"Yes, of course."

"Don't take this the wrong way."

"Tell me, Eren!"

He blew a raspberry into his forearm. "I really appreciate this, Historia, I really do… But you're _really_ bad at this."

She gasped in shock, her hands leaving his body. Eren imagined she'd crossed them, and he kind of wished he hadn't opened his mouth because he missed the feel of them the second they were gone. "What do you _mean_?"

Eren sighed. "I mean, you're doing this completely wrong."

“What. Do. You. Mean!” She jabbed her nail in his shoulder with every word. “You told me not to stop!"

"Because I didn’t think you’d be _this_ bad at it!” Eren admitted.

Historia grumbled.

“Lie down,” He ordered. “And I’ll show you.”

Historia made a grouchy sound— _hmph!_ —and switched places with him, the blankets rustling as she laid on top of them. He didn't climb on top of her like she'd done to him. He knelt off to the side. He should be standing but the bed was too comfortable and cool to leave.

Eren rolled her shirt, locking the cotton fabric under her armpits. The chill immediately pricked goosebumps along the expanse of her skin, beige from the sun. Historia shivered. No bra. Mint boy shorts, thighs supple, lathered in coconut oil over the years. He wanted to rub his hands over them—over all of her. He hadn't noticed the day he'd walked in on her but she had back dimples. Just another feature to add on the endless list of things that made her so appealing to him.

He flexed his hands, cracked his fingers though he didn't need to. He spent too much time ogling. "Do you have any spots where you have a lot of pain?"

Historia thought. "Lower back. Mostly. Sometimes my shoulders."

Surfacing all his professionalism, Eren inhaled a deep breath and dove in, starting where she'd said, and working out the knots with a furrowed brow. Applied the slightest pressure of his fingers. Her skin was just as soft as he thought. She had to be the most delicate thing he'd ever laid his hands on. Eren tried to ignore that.

"¡Ay, Dios mío!" Historia moaned into the pillow. "Qué rico, Eren. This feels _so_ good."

His eyes darted to the back of her head. The slit of light from the drawn curtains bathed her hair with the colors of the setting sun, an array of gold and oranges, like fire. A smile crawled along his mouth. "I never told you?"

"Tell me what?" She murmured, sounding halfway to sleep.

"That I do this for a living?"

Her head flipped on the pillow, her jaw hanging open. Through small parts in her messy, damp hair, Historia stared at him with bugged eyes. She searched his face for any trace of a lie. Found none.

"Me estás—are you _serious_?"

His grin widened, hands sliding up her spine, applying a hint of pressure to her muscles. "Gabi really never told you?" He quickly corrected," Or—told Zofia, who told you?"

"No!" Historia gaped, clenching her hands into fists in excitement. "This is news to me!" He laughed. "How have I known you for three years and I never knew this about you?!" Her mouth stayed open, grasping for what to say to his disclosure, though it wasn't ever a secret. "... How come you didn't tell me when we were at the bar?"

"You never asked." Eren shrugged, but he couldn't wipe the grin away. Historia's lips squished into a thin line. It was true, and he smirked, softly kneading her lower back. Her scowl disappeared, curving into a giddy smile like scratching a kitten under their chin.

"After I busted my shoulder and my basketball dreams got shot to shit, I had to find something to do. My mom always said I had gentle hands."

"And she was right." Historia rested her cheek on her forearm, flipping most of her hair over her shoulder. "A massage therapist… I guess I just assumed you were a personal trainer."

"I've thought about that. But it'd take a couple of years. Massage therapy was short. Productive. Pays well. Can't complain." His hands climbed higher. "But now that Gabi's older, I'm thinking about going back for physical therapy. Maybe I could be of help there, too. Since I know what that's like."

Historia offered a small smile. "You should. It fits you."

"Yeah," He sighed. "Just not sure how the PTA moms are gonna take my hours getting cut, though."

"What do you mean?"

Eren unwound the knots cluttered around her shoulder blades. "Some of them are my customers." He said. "They leave me good tips—huge tips."

"Gee," She huffed, the pillow case fabric rippling. "I wonder why."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I _mean_ , I'm sure their husbands _love_ that."

He kept his hands working. "I'm not sure I'm following, Historia."

She craned her neck, staring at him with an inscrutable look. Her lips parted, then she closed it, her eyes raking him with the utmost confusion. "Have you… Have you not seen how all the PTA mother's look at you when their husbands aren't around?"

He shifted closer, pressing his thumbs into her neck, working gentle circles. She didn't take her eyes burning with thousands of questions away from his. "… Not really.”

Historia blinked. She didn't say anything for some time, the two of the lapsing into silence. The room was suddenly too hushed, a disquiet strung between them that Eren wasn't sure how to cut. Whenever they ordered room service for a late night snack, it was never _this_ quiet. The TV was usually on, him watching whatever movie. Or Historia was listening to music while she figured out her sudoku puzzle. She loved Sin Bandera, and CNCO. Or he was punching away on his MacBook, working on his resume. He tossed her question over in his mind, and came up empty.

Finally, Historia squeezed her eyes shut and laughed—a sound that came straight from her bowels, vibrating through her skin under his fingertips, her cheeks reddening. It sounded like she hadn't laughed like this in a long time. His stomach flipped. "You are hopeless, Eren."

His cheeks burned, but he kept working on the nimble muscles of her arm, down to her hand, the same one he'd held just a few hours ago. "What's so funny?" Eren tried not to let it slip like he was accusing her.

She giggled, shaking her hand into the pillow. She didn't notice how his hand lingered in hers when he was supposed to be thumbing her wrist. "How are you so attractive and don't know it?"

He shook his head slightly, sliding his hand out. "It's not that." He mumbled, pressing his knuckles along her arm, sliding them up, over her shoulders, down the slope of her spine. She shuddered. Eren leaned over, working over her other arm with the same treatment.

"Then what can it be?" He could hear the smile in her voice though Eren didn't look into her eyes.

He bit the inside of his cheek. He wouldn't say it—couldn't. It'd ruin everything. His eyes darted back to her keen blue eyes, and he blurted, "I'm not interested in them. I'm interested in you." He wanted to bite his tongue until it sliced off. _So much for not saying shit._ Eren breathed, repeating motions down her back. He didn’t have an elaborate plan for spilling his pent-up feelings. Didn’t think an opportunity would ever come up. He’d never even imagined it. "So I don't pay attention to anyone else."

The significance of his words hung in the thick air between them. The smile slowly slid from her lips, her expression settling into an impassive one. _Fuck._ He succeeded in making this arrangement incredibly awkward. Only two days left. Why hadn’t he waited until this tournament was over?

He avoided her mystified expression, pulling away completely. "Finished." Eren mumbled.

He could move back all he wanted but Eren couldn't look away from the heat seeping out of those big blue eyes. Not even when she raised herself onto her knees. The air whooshed out of his lungs when she lazily slung her arms around his shoulders. Even on their knees, she was still a little shorter. Historia carded her fingers through his hair. Closed her eyes, tugged him into a kiss.

And it was no sugar, spice, and everything nice—she kissed with a desperate urgency he was eager to return. His brain floated away like a balloon set loose, leaving his body to react on its own. He crushed her close. Kissed her harder. Deeper. He didn’t care if his lung screamed. He slid one of his hands to the back of her neck, angling her head, bathing her in all the kisses he’d kept locked and bolted for three years.

He laid her down on the bed, hovering over her. She broke away, breathless. He made quick work of her shirt and his. HIs breath hitched. Historia was so beautiful, all rose and cream and smooth skin and soft curves. Her soft hands stopped him from pressing himself over her.

She spread them across his chest, a blazing trail down to his toned abs. Her burning eyes followed. "Estás bien bueno, papi." She murmured, eyes darting up to his.

He groaned low in his throat at the pet name, sucking on her nipple, earning him a content mewl. He gave it a little nibble before Eren pulled away. "I dunno how I feel about this."

"A—About what?" She sounded confused, squirming under his attention.

Eren scooted back, slipping his finger into the waistband of her boy shorts. "You calling me that." She smirked, raising her hips. Eren slid them off her legs, tossing them he didn't know where. Didn't care. He drank her in for another moment; her butter hair spread over his pillow, her body eager and spread out for him, her hungry eyes waiting for his next move. "Your daughter calls me papa. I dunno. Feels a little… weird."

"Oh." Historia _seemed_ shocked, but she didn't waste a second to push against his shoulders with both hands, and have him flip over so she could straddle him. "I had no idea about that."

She dropped a dizzying kiss on his lips, silencing him. He kind of melted in the heat of her, swooning when his hands cupped his face, her thumbs caressing his cheeks. He was cruder; palming her soft breasts, tweaking her nipples. She arched into his hands, slowly grinding her core against his length. Every stroke of her tongue against his, those little moans he swallowed up, fired heat through his blood stream.

He couldn't remember what he wanted to say until Historia pulled away, and flashed him a roguish grin. "My daughter's actually calling you 'Dad. I'm calling you 'baby'." She cocked her head. "Is that okay?"

Eren swallowed much needed air, twirling some of her hair between his fingers. "Yeah. It's okay." He said, but his brows drew together in an odd realization. "Wait. You don't… mind? That she…?"

Historia shook her head softly. Eren opened his mouth. Thought better of it. Now wasn't the right time.

After the brief pause, he _assumed_ she'd go back to kissing him—he was more than eager to get back to that and everything her naked body on top of him entailed—but her eyes lingered on his face, tracing him like he was some kind of carved statue. It made him a little nervous. She could probably feel his heart thundering against her ribs.

Before Eren could ask what was going on, Historia frowned slightly. "I kind of hate that you shaved."

 _Not_ what he was expecting. "… Why?"

She ran a nail across his jaw, where a trail of hair used to be. "I preferred the little bit of hair." Historia nipped on his jaw, moving across to take his earlobe between her teeth, before ducking into his neck. Hot kisses and tiny nibbles flecked along the column of his throat. "You looked like a man before." She moved down, traveling over his heaving chest. He shuddered under her affection, releasing her hair, the strands gliding on his heated skin. She worked towards his navel, his trimmed happy trail, situating herself between his legs. Historia slid her fingers into the waistband of his sweatpants and tugged them impatiently. "You look like a baby now."

"Okay, Historia," Eren said dryly, the two of them working together to get his garments off.

She gripped him at the base, and stroked him softly. "Aww," Historia peeked at him, fluttering her dark lashes. "Is this for me, papi?"

"Yes— _fuck,_ " He hissed. "Squeeze a little harder— _fuck! Not_ that _hard, Historia!”_ Eren scowled at her weakly.

Historia grinned, planting her knees firmly on the mattress. "Sorry."

Her mischief quickly faded, shifting into a troubled look. His heart sunk. In the back of his head, Eren knew he should've gone down on her first. Made her more comfortable. But he'd been a little too excited and she was eager, so he rolled with it. But Historia tucked some of her hair behind her ear and took him into her mouth before Eren could voice his concern, suckling on the head.

He hummed low in his throat, those darkened eyes locking him in place. One of his hands slid back into her feather hair, brushing most of it away from her face, twisting it in his fist. A thrill buzzed through him when she hummed around him, her tongue running across his slit before she decided to take more of him. Eren bit his lip.

Her hot breath washed over him when Historia suddenly pulled off. "Am I doing okay?" She whispered, worrying her reddened lip between her teeth. "I… I haven't done this in a long time." She confessed.

His stomach cartwheeled. Gently, Eren guided her back to him, applying the slightest pressure on the back of her head. Historia followed his guide, taking him deeper into her warm mouth. "Yeah. Just like that, baby," Eren rasped. "That's really good."

She hummed. Had him gritting his teeth, shaking, his thigh trembling under her hand. Historia scratched his thigh, pumping whatever her mouth couldn't reach with the hand still wrapped at the base. A familiar coil fastened in his stomach with every touch to the back of her throat, tears pricking the corners of her eyes. "Keep doing that, Historia," He encouraged her, squeezing his eyes shut, white sparks dancing across the black. " _Fuck._ "

Popping off wetly, her tongue lavished the underside. A smirk grazed the corner of her lips at his responding moan. Historia gave a few more teasing licks, an even more teasing suck of the tip before she engulfed him back into her wet mouth. " _Shit_ , baby. I'm so close—" Just the slightest graze of her teeth, and Eren emptied down her throat with a toss of his head against the pillow and a call of her name.

She moaned in surprise, but swallowed every drop. Eren breathed, his lungs burning. Historia moved, sliding her lips off him, her smile maddeningly satisfied as she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. "How did you know I like being called 'baby'?"

His lips curled into a lazy smile. "A very lucky guess." He hadn't let go of her hair. Eren hauled her to him, didn't wait for her to be seated back on top of him before he met her halfway and crushed her into a kiss.

Historia stiffened. Her hands reached behind her, peeling a few of his fingers away. "Eren, wait." She heaved between kisses. "You're pulling my hair too hard."

"Oh, shit," He dropped his hand. "Sorry!"

Historia giggled, cupping his face again. "It's okay." She drew him into another sweet kiss, dissolving any hint of harm done. "I don't mind. Just not so hard."

Eren hugged her close, her body molding to his. She parted her lips, and he coaxed her tongue out. With her in his arms, Eren fell back on the soft mattress, her wetness sliding along the contours of his abs, desperate for friction. She whimpered. He was too over-sensitive to go right now, but Eren had another idea. He broke the kiss, hooking his hands under her thighs and pushed her upward.

"Eren?" Historia started to protest, clearly confused, but followed his control, climbing up his body. "What are you—" His tongue flicked her damp folds, and Historia slammed her hands on the headboard when he took her clit between his teeth. “ _Oh, fuck!”_ She squealed. “ _Eren!”_

"You taste so good," He murmured, adjusting her trembling thighs on both sides of his head. Her eyes squeezed shut when he gave a long, slow lick up to her clit.

Her hand sunk into his hair, locking his head in place. Her nails scratched his scalp in approval when his tongue explored. "Así," She whispered, straightening herself. Her fingers toyed with her nipple. Historia rocked her hips, gradually forming her own tempo to the crusade of his tongue. "Así, papi." She tipped her head back. "Qué rico. Tu lengua se siente riquísima."

Eren grinned. It was ridiculously hot to hear her revert to her mother tongue in the heat of the moment. He wanted to keep teasing her, draw out her orgasm for as long as he was allowed, but Eren couldn't bring himself to torture her. Not yet.

But her grind was agonizingly slow. Like she was still a little nervous. What did she have to be so nervous about?"

"Ride my face, Historia," He whispered, her head following the sound of his voice. "It's okay."

Her chest heaved. Historia opened her eyes, hazy blue eyes meeting his. "A—Are you sure?"

"Fuck yeah. This is so hot." She _wailed_ when he worked his tongue on the outside of her, lapping her folds. "But you gotta keep it down," He chided lightly, pushing her closer to his face. "Our kids are next door."

The corner of her lips twitched at that. Historia huffed weakly, grinding into his face harshly. Eren smiled, setting his tongue flat for her. She didn't waste the opportunity, snapping her hips, gripping his hair righter, the sting singing through his blood. There was something so irrevocably sexy about a woman using him and taking her own pleasure—being so loud and desperate for it. Especially a poised and proper woman like Historia. Her losing control was enough to get him hard in record time.

With her vice hold of his head, she gave him no choice but to inhale her scent. Taste every inch of her. It was crazy, but he loved every second of it—even if her thighs were crushing his face. If he died between her thighs, he'd be happy. He hoped not, though. There was so much he wanted to do with her. Eren really hoped this wasn't a one-time deal.

He let his hands wander to her ass and squeezed, and gave his tongue a rest, wrapping his lips around her clit again. She liked that a lot. He snuck a finger between the crease, and Historia sputtered—whether in surprise or a shock of pleasure, Eren wasn't sure. Not until she toppled over, hands scrambling for purchase on the headboard again while his finger probed. She ground her hips into his face and slammed her eyes shut, crying out. Eren didn't stop, drawing it out for as long as she'd let him.

Historia finally pushed his head away and crawled off him, pressing her back against the headboard, trembling slightly. Her chest heaved, the skin round her collarbone flushed a pretty pink, gleaming with a slight coat of sweat. Her eyes twinkled. "No one has ever done that to me." She confessed.

He wiped his mouth. "Which part?"

" _Both._ "

His brow rose. "Never?"

Historia shook her head. "I've never been on top like that, no."

"That's sad." Eren grinned. "Fortunately for you, I'm quite adventurous."

She swat the side of his head weakly. "Shut up." Eren chuckled, looping an arm around her, pulling himself closer to her to plant kisses on her neck.

Historia didn't let him linger for long, squirming in his hold and eventually pushing him away, crawling across the bed. And staying like that.

He was too surprised to make a move.

When he didn't join her, Historia shot him a dirty look. "Well, what're you waiting for?"

He snapped back to her eyes, his own wide-eyed. " _Seriously?”_

She blushed. "Yes," Historia confessed, pressing her shoulders to the bed, adding onto the already enticing view. "Just… Please, go slow?" She searched his face, cheek pressed against the rumpled sheets, a little timid. "It's been a long time for me, and you're… a little bigger than what I've had before."

He didn't need to be told twice, climbing onto his knees, lining himself behind her. Eren didn't shove it in right away, admiring the smooth and supple skin of her back with his hands. He'd been working before, but now that this was all for fun, he enjoyed the feel of her scorched skin, the soft muscles that lay beneath. The sheen of sweat. Eren peeled the strings of hair clinging to her shoulders, swept it over one shoulder.

Historia shivered, arching into his touch. "Your hands feel _so good,_ papi.”

"You ever thought about me?" Eren asked bluntly, setting his hands on her hips. "Like this?"

"Yes," She wiggled her hips. "But I'm usually on top."

"That can easily be arranged."

Historia laughed. "So eager. Maybe next time." She shivered when Eren ran the head along her soft folds. She rocked her hips to the rhythm but he never popped inside. Historia whined in frustration. "C'mon, Eren. Don't tease me."

"Why? It's fun. You're so responsive."

" _Please_."

Her begging _almost_ broke his resolve. "Nope." He wanted to hear more of it.

But he knew Historia wasn't that type of girl. Too much pride. She grumbled, twisting the sheets in clenched fists. "Why are you being such an ass?" She whined. "I want you so bad, haven't I made it obvious enough for you?"

He mock-frowned at the back of her head. "It's not obvious enough."

She was growing more and more frustrated over chasing him. It was so hot. "Why is that talking to you is like talking to a brick wall sometimes?"

Eren pouted, stopping. "Hey. Don't be mean to me right now."

She huffed, a smirk curling her lips. "You like it."

Eren laughed, holding her hip. "Yeah, I do. I like you a lot." Deciding to give her what she wanted, he sunk in as slow as he could biting back the moan that threatened to tumble out. Historia didn't hold back, moaning loudly. Her walls were so deliciously wet for him. Eren pulled her hips flush with his, sheathing himself fully.

"Fuck." He rasped, pulling out the hallway, pressing back in. The way she caressed him was so so so _good_. " _Fuck._ You're so tight, baby."

"Is it better than you thought it would be?" She husked.

"So much better," He rocked his hips slowly. Eren let his eyes fall closed, relishing in the slicked feeling of her insides for a few controlled thrusts. "This is amazing— _you're_ amazing." He dragged his hands up and down the curve of her waist. "You okay? You want me to stop?"

Historia shook her head, her heavy pants rippling the creased sheets. "Te sientes bien, papi," She whispered in that reverent tone again. "No pares."

She matched his gait, taking all of him. Historia felt like heaven and everything in between, her walls so wet and smooth, sucking him back in with every thrust. He couldn't stop himself from matching her moans. Normally he'd be bored being so gentle. He wasn't a stranger to shoving a girl down, a hand locking her down by the neck, and pounding senselessly into her. But he was young then, and this was Historia. He liked her. A little too much. Unless she asked, he wouldn't.

Besides, this was _so much better_ than all of his late night fantasies of her. The damp skin of her back, groping her ass, spreading the cheeks apart. He didn't feel the need to rush. He was content with the haze fogging his mind, simmering under his skin. Her muttering his name into the sheets, squeezing around him so exquisitely. This was about her, not him or a quick fuck to release.

Historia suddenly raised herself on her hands, the angle changing slightly. She pushed against him until their skin began to slap together with the force of her movements. His dick grazed that sweep spot that made her shudder and shake each time. She shoved a hand under her, and threw a sultry look over her shoulder. "Harder," She demanded. "Fuck me harder, Eren."

Eren licked his lips, gripping her hips tighter. He slammed into her the way she wanted, all his earlier inhibitions gone. "Like this?"

She nodded vigorously. “Yes, así,” Historia dropped her head, those quavering moans of hers reaching a sweet crescendo. "You're so deep," She panted, her knuckles the same white as the sheets still fisted between her fingers. "You feel so good inside me." She wasn't trying to keep quiet anymore; didn't care if anyone passing down the hall heard. Nor their kids right next door. "Así, papi. Así."

He spread her legs slightly wider with his knees, draping himself over her. He unwound her hand from the sheets, threading their fingers together. His other hand slithered down her body; tugged on her nipples. Slid lower, replacing her fingers with his own, helping her to completion with rough, frantic circles on her clit. Historia fluttered around him, and Eren muffled his grunt into her shoulder blade.

"You feel so fucking good," He groaned, nosing some of her hair clinging to her skin aside. He rained kisses on the curve of her neck, moved up to her ear, took the lobe between his teeth. "You're taking me so good, baby."

" _Eren_." She whined, her body violently trembling in his hold. " _Fuck,_ " Historia squealed, meeting his ferocious pounding, digging her nails into the forearm keeping her up. " _Don't stop, don't stop—I'm so close!”_

He didn't, the bed creaking. "You like this?"

“ _Yes!"_ She screamed, her back righting against his chest. "¡ _Sientes increíble! You're so fucking deep! I'm—_ " Her orgasm tore through her, shredding any coherent sentence, deforming her words into a loud sob. She flexed around him so violently it almost elicited his own orgasm. Eren squeezed his eyes shut, bit her shoulder, relaxed his pace. As it was, he wouldn't last much longer.

She went boneless in his embrace. Reluctantly, Eren lifted himself up, pulling out. He gently laid her on her back. Historia barely protested, just a weak little whine, too strung out from the aftermath—her eyes a little unfocused, chest flushed that pretty pink he loved seeing earlier. Her eyes fluttered, like coming out of a dream, clearing some of her disarray.

Eren hooked her legs around his hips. "You're so pretty."

Historia gave him a feeble huff, locking her ankles behind his back. "I suppose I do look—" She swallowed, regaining a little of her spunk. "—exceptional right now."

He grinned, sliding his hands up her forearms. "You're always pretty." He reached her smooth and slick palms, lacing their fingers together. He pinned their locked hands by her head, resting his weight on his knees. "Think you can give me one more?"

With a deep breath, Historia nodded mutely. She shifted a tad, aligning their bodies at a better angle for her. Her eyes were so dark, so intense, Eren couldn't remember them ever being a charming blue. He was sure his own mirrored hers.

She bit his lip when he buried himself inside her, a muffled groan that trickled shivers down his spine. He settled into another torturously slow rhythm. Eren dropped his head into her neck with a soft sign, rolling his pelvis against her since their hands were occupied. She pushed up against him, dug her heels into the small of his back, begging him with her entire body to go faster, hit harder, _please, please, please_. He kissed her to silence her. Her neediness would make him lose it.

She was still so tight, every part of her hugging every inch of him so sweetly, shrouded in the pursuit of another release. He broke from her lips, lowered his head and took her nipple into his mouth, grazing it with his teeth. Historia arched into him, squeezed around him so pleasantly he couldn't hold back his own moan. Eren picked up his pace. Her fingers fastened into an iron hold. He couldn't remember the room ever being cold, the heat inflating between them. Eren found himself sloppily jerking into her soon enough, his climax climbing up from the tips of his toes curled on the bed.

"I'm so close, baby," Eren groaned, nibbling on her clavicle, moving up her neck. Historia turned her head and claimed his lips for a moment before he ripped away, staring into her heady, half-lidded eyes. "Where do you—"

"Inside me." She tightened her legs around him, resolved not to let go, her orgasm coursing through her once more as she keened. He desperately sought to join her. "It's okay."

" _Fuck,_ " He moaned, squeezing his eyes shut, pressing his forehead to hers. "You're gonna make me—"

A rapping on the door brought it all to a screeching halt. His head snapped up. "¿Mamá?"

" _Are you_ fucking _kidding me_?" Eren wailed into her chest. He loosened his hold on her.

Historia barked a laugh, rolling them onto their sides, hugging him. Eren shook his head furiously, his face hot.

"¿Mamá, puedes abrir la puerta, por favor? Es una emergencia."

"She... says... it's an... _emergency_." Historia choked out between giggles.

This was just his luck. He picked up his head, meeting Historia's bitten lips and laughing eyes. Of course she'd find this situation hilarious. She wasn't the one with a raging hard on. Eren frowned. "If we ignore her, will she go away?"

She brushed some hair off his face. "Usually, yes."

He gaped. "Fuck, Historia! That's so mean!"

She matched his frown. "Oh, please," Historia squirmed out of his hold. He missed her body already, the cold of the room returning full force. "Like you've never faked being asleep just to get a few extra minutes of sleep."

Zofia knocked again. "Sé que estás ahí, mamá. Oí ruidos dentro del cuarto."

Historia flushed. "She says she knows I'm here." She found her panties thrown on the spare chair, and pulled them on. "So she's probably not going to leave any time soon."

With a loud, defeated groan, Eren rolled over, and begrudgingly sat up, glaring at the wall. "I _wish_ Gabi would let me forget she exists."

"Poor baby." She snickered, and crossed over to the bureau. "Dime qué pasó, querida." Historia called out to her daughter.

"Es sobre Gabi," Zofia responded, her voice a little more insistent. "¿Eren está contigo?"

He caught Gabi's name, and his, and snagged Historia's eyes. Her brows were furrowed, staring back at him with an equally curious expression. She clipped on a nude bra. "Yes. He's here. Talk to him."

Zofia hesitated. "So… Um… I think Gabi might be in trouble…"

Eren dropped his head into his hands. _What did she do_ now? Aside from her spits of attitude the last two days, and the body pains, she'd been doing _so good_ about not getting in trouble. What could she have possibly done within the last hour? Wasn't she supposed to be in her room?

He scrubbed his forehead and retrieved his sweats strewn by the foot of the bed. "She better be dying," He muttered to Historia. She rolled her eyes. "How much trouble?" He called to Zofia.

* * *

Gabi wasn't dying.

As horrible as it sounded, Eren would've rather found her on her deathbed than to be doing _this._ _Anything_ but _this_.

The two of them found their girls in a state of hysteria. Gabi refused to come out of the bathroom when Eren knocked. In a turn of shock, she asked for Historia. He was a little offended. Historia sent him a withered look before spending what felt like an eternity in the bathroom with Gabi.

With nothing to do, Eren skulked to the beds, staying with Zofia by her side. She'd seemed so spooked, sitting on her bed perfectly still, staring at the floor. He was a man of _a lot_ of words but Eren didn't know what to say about this, how to console a girl through _this._ It wasn't his place, he thought. He wasn't used to feeling so inadequate, but this was one of those times. All he could do was put his hand on Zofia's head, tell her that her mom most likely had things handled.

A solid twenty minutes later, Historia finally emerged with Gabi, wiping her tears and snot with toilet paper. Historia dragged Eren outside, letting them know that they'd be back in a few minutes. They climbed into the backseat of an Uber she'd ordered, the quiet man driving them to Target. The whole time he sat with Zofia, and during the car ride over, Eren thought about how it all made sense, the pieces slotting into the wacky puzzle. He kicked himself for not realizing it sooner. Even the search results had mentioned it!

God. He needed a beer already.

"Why is this happening to me?" He blurted in the middle of the feminine hygiene aisle. There weren't many people around, just two women of different ages, but Eren noted he was the only guy here.

Historia cut him a scathing side-eye. "Because you have a daughter, and this is part of the journey?" She pushed the box of Always Ultra Thin pads back in its appropriate slot on the shelf. She had a preference for tampons, only packing three pads in case of an emergency. She'd given Gabi one, but she'd need her own pack.

" _Journey._ " He echoed bitterly. "You make it sound like it's so awesome for everyone involved."

"I never said that."

Eren leaned against the shelf, one foot crossed over his ankle. He guessed it'd been easy to ignore when he was young. With a quiet, secluded sister like Mikasa, and an already over zealous mom, Eren never figured anything was out of the ordinary when the time came around. "I remember my old man coming home with chocolates and ice cream I couldn't touch." He said with a slight smile.

She snapped her fingers, beaming. "Chocolates! Right! We should get those! What are her favorites?"

"Reese's or Butterfingers," Eren narrowed his eyes. "But weren't you telling me the other day that I gotta stop giving my kid so much sugar?"

She flicked her wrist. "That was different."

He snorted but couldn't help the smile.

Historia lifted the U-Kotex box. Wings included. The plastic was a vibrant, abstract design. His brow rose while she read the labels. Why create the illusion of beauty out of something so horrible? _Poor Gabi,_ he thought in dismay.

"You are right, though," Historia said. "It's not really a journey. More like a burden. It's one of the most awful parts of being a woman. Besides giving birth."

" _Stop._ " He whined, knocking his head on the shelf. "I'm trying not to think that far ahead. She's not even in middle school yet, Historia."

"I had mine at nine." She shrugged, handing off the box to him. "This is just how it is for us. Be grateful you're a man. You'll never have to experience any of this."

"But I still gotta _deal_ with it." He tipped his head to the blindingly white ceiling, that Bad Bunny guy she’d been listening to the day he walked in playing overhead. "I just don't get why couldn't this happen… _later?_ Like, I dunno, when she's with her mom?"

Historia rolled her eyes with a grin, and punched his arm. "Don't be such a baby, bobo. It was bound to happen sooner or later."

He scratched his neck. "So I'm back to being 'bobo'. Okay." Eren dropped his hand with a sigh, the other holding onto the box. Historia stacked another one, Always Infinity. _It was nice while it lasted._ "This still sucks." He muttered at the clean linoleum.

She smirked, pulling on his cheek. "You're very lucky I was around when it happened."

He frowned, rubbing his cheek. "Don't do that. My mom used to do that to me."

She ignored him, spinning on her heel. Historia winced at the action. He was mildly impressed she could walk just fine. She grabbed a pack of feminine wipes, some white and pink design, flipping it over. She added those to the boxes Eren cradled in his arm already. Historia insisted it would be a light haul. He should've known better.

Historia looked up at him, realization dawning. "Oh. You should download this app." She said, reaching for her phone in her satchel. "That way you can keep track of it every month."

Eren grimaced. It did physically pain him. "Shouldn't that be… Gabi's job?"

"Yes. But she's not… responsible enough yet to remember to keep track of it." She grinned and added, hoping to pacify some of his misery, "Maybe when she's a little older. Give or take twelve."

Eren sighed in defeat.

He blindly followed her out of the aisle, punching in the app with much reluctance. He locked his phone when it started downloading, shoving it back into his hoodie. "I am grateful to you," He said earnestly, dodging the cart of a mother who wasn't able to divide her attention between her three rowdy kids. Historia glanced up at him. "I know how to patch up a dislocated shoulder. I can clean up cuts and help with bruises, but this stuff… I'm not sure what I would've done without you."

She flashed him a grin, turning sharply to the left, grabbing his free arm. "You would've figured something out. I believe in you."

When they'd arrived, Historia immediately tromped towards the pads. Now she seemed to wander aimlessly with no clear direction. She seemed keen on keeping them here for as long as she possibly could. _So much for being in and out._ Eren didn't mind. It was another excuse to spend time with her. Sex was nice and all, but hanging out with her was great too. Even if it was something mundane like shopping for their kids.

"You know, I was expecting Zofia to be the first one," She confessed.

"I didn't know getting your period was a competition between girls." He jeered.

She sneered up at him. "No seas grosero." Her hand slipped sometime during the walk into his, like second nature, and she dragged him through the aisles of food products. "It's best to think of it as a learning experience for you. You remember what I told you earlier, right?"

"Yeah," He said, though he'd wanted nothing more than to cover his ears and pretend he hadn't heard a word. "Pads, tampons, cups, cloths—wait. I should buy her more underwear, right?"

"Preferably, yes." She pulled on his hand again. They cut through the home appliances, decor, sliding through all the Hallmark cards, and arrived at the kids clothing. "It's going to be a few years before she gets comfortable with the process. Except lots of stained underwear."

Eren sighed loudly. " _Great.”_

After a comfortable lapse of silence, Historia piling packages of Hanes underwear in his arm, she squeezed his hand. "You know you're just as important as her mother. Right?"

"I guess." Eren muttered, shrugging. "But this isn't really my domain. As a guy, I don't know anything about this kind of stuff. This is more suited, well, for you."

"Sure. But you're the father— _her_ father. Everything becomes your domain since she lives with you."

He knew Historia was right. It wasn't like he hadn't given thoughts to this—Gabi growing older, those awful friendship break-ups and even worse, _relationships,_ the day she decided to stay with him permanently and visit Pieck every other weekend. Still. He figured he'd have time. _A lot_ more time. It seemed like yesterday Gabi was six, kicking her first soccer ball, realizing she loved it. Eren had blinked, and suddenly she was taller, her hair a longer and richer brown like his mother's, speaking fuller sentences, writing. Being even more of an annoying pest that he loved.

At the long candy aisle, Historia grabbed Gabi's Butterfingers. And a bag of Cookies N' Cream drops for herself. Sour Patch kids for Zofia. His arm was full, and now he had to resort to letting go of her hand to hold it all. This was too much stuff, even for Historia. He couldn't imagine what their hotel bill looked like with all the room service they ordered. Eren wanted to pay her back, but Historia insisted it was fine.

This wasn't the best time for _that_ question. Not while they were strolling through electronics, and Historia stopped to browse through the new movie released. But Eren couldn't help it. It'd been gnawing on him ever since the word first slipped from Zofia's mouth.

"Hey, Historia?"

She put back _The Shape of Water_ , realizing the rating, and picked up _Jumanji: Welcome to the Jungle_. "Yes?"

"Zofia's dad…" Eren started. Historia immediately tensed, her shoulders squared, ready for battle. She kept her eyes glued to the box, before putting it back. He couldn't stop now, so he plowed forth, "He's—"

"—not in the picture," She finished for him. Eren nodded. That was enough. By her clipped tone, he assumed she was upset about the question. She had a right to be. They weren't officially together—he didn't _think—_ so it was pretty presumptuous of him to ask a question so personal. But Historia slowly turned her head, looking up at him with a chagrined smile that broke his heart. "He was looking for a night of fun, not a lifetime commitment."

"So, he knows? And doesn’t… care?"

Historia nodded.

He swallowed down his temper. He didn't understand guys like that. Would never understand guys like that. His situation with Pieck wasn't any different. They'd been friends for a few months, shared a couple of classes together in college, and she'd been bored one afternoon in his dorm room, tired of watching him play video games. And one thing led to another, and nine months later... He was young and dumb and inexperienced. But hitchhiking out of Pieck's life just because he'd made his bed had never been an option. He would've never forgiven himself if he'd just dipped.

Eren wanted to take Historia's hand but they were full. So he said, "You didn't have to tell me, but thanks. It makes sense now."

Historia shrugged. "You deserved to know." She plucked another movie. "You're the most consistent male figure in her life." She stopped. "Besides Theo, of course."

"You seriously don't mind if she calls me that?"

"Not unless you do." She decided to stick to the new _Jumanji_ movie, placing _Gifted_ back on the shelf. Historia fixed with him a serious expression. "You _can_ tell her no, if it makes you uncomfortable."

Eren didn't need time to think about it, shaking his head. "It doesn't. I don't care. I was more worried about you—because, you know, we only have one parent and all."

"It's fine by me." Historia led him away, back towards the main aisle. "Family is whatever you make of it."

Speaking of that… Eren pursed his lips. "You know it's Gabi's fault we got stuck in the same hotel room, right?"

Historia's brows rose, unsure where he was going with this, but not the least bit stunned by the revelation. "I had a feeling, yes."

"She wanted us to be together."

"I'd say it worked."

Now it was his turn to cast her a sideways glare. "It's mostly for them to be together. Not really for our benefit."

Historia shrugged. "So what? It still worked."

That stopped him for just a second. He wanted to scratch his jaw. "... Do you think Zofia had a hand in this?"

"Honestly? Yes." Historia smiled snidely. "You wouldn't believe it, but my daughter's much sneakier than yours. She's amazing with computers and programs for a ten-year-old." She touched his elbow. "But I don't understand what you're trying to say. Do you… Do you think this is a bad thing?"

"What? No." He hurriedly denied, the worry wrinkling her brow smoothing out. "It's not that. I just wish…"

Historia waited, guiding him towards the check-out lines, blinking. "You wish, what?"

Eren winced. "That _I'd_ been more upfront instead of these kids having to do all of… _this._ ” He sighed. I’ve never been good at this dating stuff. I’ve only been with, like, two girls seriously since Gabi was born.”

That surprised Historia, her eyebrows shooting up. "Really?"

"... Yeah?" He stared at her, taking in her bemused expression, equally puzzled. Eren blinked. "Wait. Hold on." He grinned. "Did you think I was getting it all the time or something?"

Historia flushed. "N—No, that's not it."

He laughed. "Don’t lie. But I can assure you, my last date, was, like, four years ago. I haven't been with anyone in a long time, too."

Historia blinked up at him a few times, stuck between confusion or if she should rejoice. They moved up in the line. "Did you like her that much?"

"No, nothing like that. Annie knew I had a kid but she was still mad whenever I didn't meet her expectations. She was really into the party scene and it just wasn't my thing." He shrugged. "She never wanted to meet Gabi, and I never wanted to bring her around. She just wasn't, I dunno, step-mom material, I guess?"

"I understand," Historia said with a nod, grabbing some of the items out of his arms, and setting them on the conveyor belt, using the divider. "Not everyone's prepared to take on that role."

"Yeah. No point in pushing them to. But, anyway, no. Just kinda realized I couldn’t force myself to be in a relationship.”

She hummed, then said, "My ex was the same. But I did like her very much,” Her hand stroked a piece of her hair before she folded her arms across her chest, a forlorn look clouding her eyes. “When she left, it really hurt. For a long time. She used to joke about how she would marry me, and then...”

"Sorry," He said sincerely, rubbing her head. "How long were you guys together?"

She looked up at him with a frown over the childish affection. Historia didn't tell him to top, though. "Close to a year. But I think true commitment scared her. She wasn’t comfortable being around Zofia.”

“I see.”

She shrugged pointedly. "But, you know, there's those… moments where you meet people and you know right away that they will be important to you forever. She served her purpose."

"Yeah, I guess." Eren sighed, his fingers toying with a strand of her hair before he let it go. "Those are nonexistent for me.”

"How come?"

"Well,” He stuffed his hands in his pockets as they moved up to the register, greeting the moody cashier. “With my bad attitude, and a little clone of me walking around my house, we don't exactly make for a good companionship."

Historia grinned, shaking his arm. "I guess it's fortunate for you that I like weirdo's."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Might write an extra chapter. Not rn though. But someday.


End file.
